


Boys Only Want Love If It's Torture

by aalexandravictoriaa



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abuse, After a while, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic Slurs, I will have a warning before each chapter, Love/Hate, M/M, Parental Abuse, Please Be careful, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Slow Build, Smut, and an asshole, and lukes brothers also dont exsit, artist!Ashton, because calum is pretty much lukes only family, because thats my weakness, but i thought it was important enough to tag, but not really, cal is 24 in this fic, kind of, like theyre rich and everyone knows about them and they make the news and stuff, luke brings out the best in him, luke hates him, luke is only 18, lukes parents in this fic arent his real parents, mechanic!calum, michael and his family are kind of like australia's version of the kardashians, michael is really rich, poor!luke, protective!calum, rich!michael, student!Michael, student!luke, the band doesnt exist in this soz, the cake is platonic, the summary makes michael sound so dangerous but i promise hes nice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalexandravictoriaa/pseuds/aalexandravictoriaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael fixed Luke with a hard stare, as if his eyes could strip away the flesh from Luke’s bones and lay all of his secrets bare. Michael wasn’t just looking at him, he was looking <em>into</em> him and even though Luke was fully clothed, he felt completely exposed under the other boy’s gaze. Michael was looking at Luke so intensely, like he wanted to pick Luke apart cell by cell and reconstruct him in an entirely different way. Luke didn't know what Michael was looking for, but whatever he found caused a dangerous light to flicker in his green eyes, like a wildfire consuming a forest. The motion caused Luke’s heart to clench in panic and his mind to send out warning signals to <em>stay away from Michael Clifford</em>. </p><p>or</p><p>Luke and Michael meet at college and getting to know Michael is the best and worst thing Luke has ever done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that some homophobic slurs and some violence will take place in this chapter. It's not very detailed, but be careful if you're easily triggered.  
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy! I have some big things planned for this fic and I'm very excited about it!  
> Oh and just so no one is confused - Calum is 24, Ashton is 20, Michael is 19, and Luke is 18.

Luke was startled awake from whatever he was dreaming about by the crushing weight of his best friend lying on top of him. Luke groaned and, without opening his eyes, attempted to shove the unwanted weight off of him.

“Wake up, Birthday Boy!” Calum exclaimed loudly in Luke's ear.

Luke rolled his head to the side and tried to sink down into his pillow as much as Calum would let him.

“You know what I want for my birthday, Cal?” Luke grumbled, eyes still shut tight.

“What?” Calum answered with so much enthusiasm that Luke almost felt bad for being rude.

“I want to sleep in,” Luke yawned and tried to roll himself over onto his stomach, but Calum's weight continued to pin him down.

“You always sleep in,” Calum complained. “I thought we could do something different today, seeing as it _is_ your birthday, after all.”

“What’s the point?” Luke asked, finally opening his eyes, but not making eye contact with Calum.

Luke appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but Calum was trying too hard to fix something that he didn't break. While today is in fact Luke's birthday, it is also the two year anniversary since Luke's parents kicked him out of their house. Luke was only sixteen at the time and he had only recently begun developing feelings for other boys. When Luke originally voiced those thoughts, his parents told him that it was just “a phase” and that he should ignore any feelings he has for people of the same sex. He did as his parents told him to do for as long as he could. But eventually, Luke met a boy with eyes even bluer than his own and he couldn't stop himself from falling in love.

-

It was on his sixteenth birthday that Luke introduced his boyfriend, Jacob, to his family. Luke was nervous about his parents' reaction, but he didn't expect them to become so irrationally angry. Luke tries to block the memory of that day from his mind, but every once in a while he will hear echoes of his mother screaming and feel the phantom punches where his father hit him. He will see the scared, watery blue eyes of his boyfriend being chased out of Luke's house, never to be seen again. He remembers the stillness that came after the beating, after his father tried to “beat the gay” out of him. He can feel the way the rug burned his arms as he dragged himself across the carpet, up to his room, and then eventually out of his house. The place that was once a sanctuary to him became the place that he feared to be the most. If Luke listens hard enough, he can still hear the venom in his mother’s words when she told him to “never come back here again, you faggot!” He swears he can remember how hard the house shook when she slammed the door behind him.

Luke was sixteen years old and he was alone. His parents had disowned him for just being himself. He had only one friend in the world at the time and decided that his best option would be to go to Calum and see if he could help him. Luke didn't expect the older boy to take him in and care for him the way that he did, the way that he still does, and Luke is more than eternally grateful.

-

Luke remembered being extremely nervous when he showed up at Calum's apartment that night. He was bruised and bloody and there was a sheen of sweat covering his entire body that caused his hair to lay flat, plastered against his forehead. He had never felt so vulnerable and worthless in his life, but Calum welcomed him into his home with open arms nevertheless. Luke refused to speak for the first hour that he was there and he appreciated the fact that Calum never tried to pry the truth from him. Luke did nothing but cry since he left his home. He showed up to Calum's apartment with tears streaming down his face. The blond hair at the back of his head was matted with blood and there were bruises visible on his face and chest. His bottom lip was swollen and bleeding and a black and blue mark framed Luke's right eye. He sat on Calum's couch after taking a shower and let the sobs violently shake his shoulders and cause his stomach to heave. When he was finally able to calm himself down after what his parents had done to him, the tears began to fall again at the thought of what Calum would do if he found out the truth.

It wasn't until three in the morning and Luke had been in Calum's apartment for almost five hours when the truth came pouring out of his mouth. His first reaction was to cover his face to lessen the blow, but the blow never came. He took a chance and peeked out from behind his arms to see Calum staring at him. His expression was both soft and hard at the same time and Luke wondered which one was directed towards him. Calum moved towards him then and Luke flinched away. He pressed his palms against his eyes and waited for something, anything, to happen. But Luke should have known that Calum was not anything like his parents, so when he heard the older boy begin to cry, it really shouldn't have surprised him the way that it did.

“I'm so sorry, Luke,” Calum cried and Luke didn't know what he was apologizing for. “I promise you that you're welcome here,” Calum continued. “You can stay for as long as you want. Hell, you can stay forever if you want to. I don't mind. I just, I love you and I'm sorry.”

Luke was at a loss for words. Everything he wanted to say to Calum got stuck in the lump in his throat. Eventually, he managed to croak out a “thank you” and the two boys spent the rest of the night attempting to fall asleep on an old mattress that was really only meant for one person to sleep on.

-

Calum's weight shifted on top of Luke and the blue-eyed boy was pulled away from his memories. Calum looked down at him with a knowing and pained expression etched across his face.

“It's okay, Lukey. We don't have to do anything special for your birthday,” Calum whispered.

Luke wanted to thank him for understanding and then drift off back to sleep, but he couldn't do that to Calum. Calum was the one person in the entire world who had always been there for Luke. Luke knew that, in his own way, Calum was trying to make up for what his parents had done. The older boy continues to try his hardest with righting every wrong Luke's parents had done by him. There isn't a person in the universe that Luke loves more than Calum, so Luke decides to play along.

“No, you're right, Cal. We should do something different,” Luke says, shifting the positions of his arms so he can wrap them around the older boy's waist and pull him in for a hug. Calum let his head drop into Luke's neck and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Good,” he breathed, “cause I already made your birthday breakfast.”

Luke huffed out a laugh and ran his fingers through the soft, short hair at the base of Calum's neck. The two boys stayed like that for a while, just content with being in each other's company. There was an innocent air to the silence that followed and it reminded Luke of when he was younger, when his biggest problem was whether he wanted chocolate or vanilla ice cream for dessert. For a moment, Luke felt like he was eight years old again. He was light-hearted and happy and it was all because of Calum. Calum was the one who sacrificed the most for Luke. He was the one who provided for him and loved him when his parents failed to.

“Lukey?” Calum asked softly against the skin of Luke's neck.

“Yeah, Cal?”

“Happy birthday.”

-

“So,” Calum began over his third plate of pancakes. “I have an idea.”

Luke groaned. As much as loves and appreciates Calum, the blond has known him long enough to run in the other direction whenever Calum has “an idea.”

“What is it this time?” Luke asked, his mouth full of the breakfast that Calum made.

“You know how you always wanted to go to college?” Calum asked. Luke's eyes widened at the question.

“Relax. I’m not paying for your education or anything.” Calum shot Luke an apologetic look. Luke couldn't tell if it was for getting his hopes up or because of the fact that they're dirt poor and can't afford to pay college tuition. Either way, Luke motioned for Calum to continue.

“Right, so I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. We have a pretty good university only a few blocks away from here and I think you should visit sometime.” Calum explained.

“What's the point of taking a college tour if I can't go to the college?”

“No, you wouldn't be taking a tour. You would go to the school and pretend you were a student there.” Calum said.

“I'm pretty sure that's illegal.” Luke replied.

“Not if you don't go inside the classrooms.” Calum shot back.

“So what am I supposed to do? Just sit outside while classes are going on?” Luke asked.

“Exactly!” Calum said as if it was obvious. “Just sit outside and listen to the lectures. We don't have nearly enough money for you to go to college, but my idea gives you an opportunity to still listen and learn. Plus, you're young enough that people wouldn't even question whether or not you were actually a student there.”

Luke pulled his lip ring between his teeth nervously, mulling over everything Calum had said. It wasn't the most horrible idea his friend had ever had. It was definitely better than when Calum had the bright idea to put Red Bull into his coffee maker instead of water so he could stay awake longer. That stunt almost landed him in the emergency room and they obviously didn't have the money to pay for something like that.

But this idea was actually a good one. If Luke could pull it off and not be so awkward and obvious about it, he could get a quality education for free. He debated with himself for all of thirty seconds about whether or not this was an ethical thing to do, but the more selfish side of Luke decided that he had enough taken away from him in the past. He needed a win and maybe this was it.

“Okay,” Luke said after an extended silence. “I'm in.”

-

The walk to the college was a short one, seeing as they only lived a few blocks away, but Calum insisted on walking with Luke anyway.

“You're like my child, Lukey, and I want to see you off to school.”

Luke just grumbled in response. When he agreed to Calum's suggestion, he didn't think that the dark-haired boy would immediately jump up from his seat at the breakfast table only to quickly leave and re-enter the kitchen with a stack of books in his hands.

“Let’s get a move on then!” was all Calum said before he scampered off to the bathroom to wash up.

Now, Calum and Luke were walking side by side towards their destination. Luke was carrying the books Calum practically threw at him (two notebooks, a folder, and a paperback copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ – Calum insisted it would make him look more “college-y”) and with every step they took closer to the university, the more panicked Luke became. Luke shrunk in on himself, something he did a lot whenever he was nervous, and Calum noticed that something was wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized that Luke was suddenly eye-level with him, which isn't usually the case, seeing as Luke is a long-legged giant who normally towers several inches above Calum. But Luke was afraid and he felt the fear settling in his bones, weighing him down. He unconsciously curled in on himself, trying to make himself smaller so he didn't seem like such a large target. Calum noticed his friends hunched over posture and pulled him to the side.

“Lukey,” Calum murmured softly. “There's no reason to be nervous.”

Luke refused to make eye contact with Calum, but the older boy could tell by the way Luke was rapidly blinking that he was trying to fight back tears.

“What if they don't like me?” Luke asked in a small voice. “What if they find out and do what my parents did?” Luke choked on the word “parents.”

“No one is going to hurt you. I promise. I'm right here to protect you, okay? If you have any problems, just call me or come straight home and we'll figure it out together.”

Luke nodded his head. He felt ridiculous. He was clearly overreacting, but this felt so big and new, so _scary_. Luke could never prepare himself for something this big. But, he had to remind himself, this was something he had always wanted. Granted, he might not be doing things in a perfectly legal and civilized manner, but who was he to turn down an opportunity like this? He would take whatever he could get.

“Okay,” he sniffed. “I can do this.”

“Are you sure?” Calum asked. “Because if you're not, we can go home and come back some other time.”

“No. I'm ready.” Luke knew that it was now or never. If he didn't go through with this now, then his nerves would end up getting the better of him and he would never go back at all. It had to be now.

Calum nodded silently and began walking again, leading the way for Luke until they were on campus and standing right in front of a large stone building that read _“Blackburn Science Building”_ carved into the stone entryway.

“So,” Luke started, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I guess today is “science day.”

Calum gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder. Luke gave him a nervous smile in return and walked into the building.

-

The moment Luke walked into the science building – no, the moment he stepped away from Calum’s side – was the same moment that Luke almost turned around and ran home. He couldn't do this. He definitely was not prepared enough to be doing something so huge, but when he went to turn around and make a beeline back to Calum, he was almost knocked over by a horde of college students. Then, Luke remembered that he was supposed to _be_ one of those college students and with the way that he was acting right now, like a giant, blond baby on the verge of tears, he stuck out like a sore thumb. So he began following the group in the direction of their next class. Luke felt surprisingly better knowing that he blended into the crowd so easily. Even though that kind of anonymity wasn't unfortunately hard to come by for some people, Luke thought of it as a gift.

Out of the group of a dozen students that were all walking together, Luke chose a boy and a girl (they seemed to have the friendliest faces) to follow to class. The couple led Luke up one flight of stairs before they turned down the hall and into the second room on the right. Luke didn't go into the classroom, but he was still able to see the word “microbiology” scrawled across an ancient and clearly over-used blackboard. Luke rolled his eyes. _Of course_ this was the very first class he chose to listen in on. He sank down to the floor and opened one of the notebooks Calum had given him and drew a lopsided and uneven chart on the first page. He made a column for each day of the week and under the “Tuesday” column, he wrote “ _microbiology, Blackburn Science Building room 205, 12:30-1:20._ ” He sighed when he heard the professor begin talking and flipped to the next page of his notebook. He couldn't help himself from thinking “ _this is it_.”

-

After sitting through almost an hour-long lecture on microbiology, Luke was sure his brain resembled something similar to rice pudding. Instead of finding another lecture to listen to, Luke decided to explore the campus. He walked past a building that had a strange, metallic statue in front of it and he stopped and stared at it for a few seconds, trying to decipher what it was. In the end, he gave up and focused his attention on the blooming cherry tree that was growing against the side of the building. While the building didn't have any fancy stone inscription like the science building did, something about it told Luke that it was the art building and he vowed to listen to a class in there.

After wandering around campus for about ten minutes, Luke apparently stumbled across the cafeteria, if the smell of French fries and cheeseburgers was anything to go by. He knew without looking in his wallet that he didn't have enough money to buy food there, so he continued to walk along before the smell of frying food could change his mind and put him in debt.

Admittedly, Luke was still feeling slightly overwhelmed and he decided that the best thing to do was to sit in a quiet place and collect his thoughts. As luck would have it, he stumbled across another large building only a moment later. This building was more modern looking than the science building and was clearly made of a much more expensive stone. From the outside, it looked cold and desolate and served as a stark contrast to the bustling campus that surrounded it. Luke decided that was exactly the type of place he wanted to be at the moment. He made his way up the sandstone steps, stopping only briefly to read the sign hanging over the doorway that indicated the building's name.

“ _Clifford Library_.”


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on posting the next chapter for a few more days, but I've had a pretty stressful day so far and I'm avoiding working on my finals so here you go.  
> In this chapter we meet Michael and his parents and we see just how rude and stuck-up they are in this fic.

It had been almost three weeks since Luke’s first day of class and he was treating it as if he was an actual student enrolled in the school. By now, Luke had chosen his schedule and if he was being honest, he appreciated the way he got to randomly select which classes he was going to take. His favorite class was Calculus 1, which he attended on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. It reminded him of the times when he would come home from school when he was younger and would sit at the kitchen table with his mother, going over math problems until he was almost as good at mathematics as she was. Luke spends a lot of the class time trying not to let his thoughts take him away to better times when his family wasn't broken. Or maybe, Luke thinks, my _family_ isn't broken. Maybe it’s just me who is broken.

But regardless of what class he has, he enjoys learning. He loves the fact that he already knows more now than he did a month ago. It makes him feel like he’s evolving, like maybe one day he can finally be the person he wants to be. It gives him hope.

The only thing that Luke sometimes finds annoying is doing his homework. It can be difficult to do his bookwork when he’s too poor to actually buy the book he’s supposed to be working from. Neither Calum nor Luke own a laptop so Luke has taken to spending the majority of his free time at the library. He may not have the books required for his classes, but while he was at the library, at least he could use the computers. He spent a lot of his time typing essays and looking up math problems. He was forever grateful for the fact that someone always seemed to ask Yahoo Answers the exact homework question he was trying to figure out. When he wasn't on the computer, he was in the back of the library studying. After only a week there, Luke discovered that no one ever frequents the back of the library and he claimed a table in the corner all to himself. As the weeks wore on, Luke felt his little nook in the back was becoming his home away from home. It was the only other place where he felt totally at ease.

Whatever work Luke didn't get done in the library, he would bring home to his apartment with Calum. Calum was his usual over the top supportive self and he would help Luke study. Sometimes the dark haired boy would even make up his own tests for Luke to take, seeing as the blond had no way of gauging how well he knew the material. Luke normally did very well and Calum would be so proud of him that he would splurge and take Luke out for ice cream. It was a good system, really, and the two of them helped each other out the best that they could.

Calum had a full time job as a mechanic, seeing as he was a genius whenever it came to car engines and auto parts. Luke worked part time as a dishwasher for a diner across from the university. He remembers how, not only a month ago, he was staring wistfully out the window as he was washing dishes, wondering what it would be like to be a student at the university. And, while he’s not _technically_ a student there, he now has a good sense of what it feels like to shuffle from one class to the next and learn until your brain feels soft, like it can't possibly absorb any more information without it potentially imploding. And he loves every minute of it. It’s the life he always wanted for himself when his parents were still around and he’s not going to discount it or complain about it just because it is hard work. Luke is willing to work hard if it means he can better himself.

-

One day while walking to his Art History class, Luke stopped to admire the Cherry Tree that he has come to love so much. He watched the way some of the pink petals floated down from the tree and landed on top of the strange metallic sculpture that he noticed his first day on campus.

“What do you see?” A voice asked from beside him and Luke jumped, not expecting the sudden intrusion on his quiet moment.

The boy that asked the question was staring at the sculpture with his head cocked slightly to the right. He was squinting his eyes as if that would help him decipher some sort of recognizable shape from the vast expanse of metal. His long, curly hair was pushed out of his face with a black bandana and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. From the way his torn up shirt appeared to be covered in paint splatters, Luke assumed he was an art student.

The boy turned to face Luke, cocking an eyebrow at him questioningly, probably wondering why he wasn’t responding. The truth is, Luke isn't very good at social interactions and he prided himself on the fact that he had gone about three whole weeks without speaking to anyone at the school. But the other boy kept staring at Luke, clearly waiting for an answer and it became apparent that Luke’s no-talking streak was about to come to an end.

Luke cleared his throat before turning his attention back to the sculpture in front of them. He figured that if he talked to the artwork instead of talking directly at the other boy, this might be easier.

“Well,” Luke began and then he paused again. He was wrong. This wasn't easier. This was just as hard and Luke cursed himself for being so socially inept, but he knew he had to say at least _something_ to the boy, so he tried again.

“To be completely honest,” Luke started, “I've been staring at this thing almost every day for the past few weeks and I still have no idea what it is.”

Luke felt a blush creep up along his face and make its way down his neck. He was talking to an _art student_ about _art_ and he made himself sound like an idiot. This guy was probably expecting some deep, introspective translation of what he thought the piece was and all Luke basically supplied him with was a somewhat nicer version of “ _I dunno_.” But to Luke’s surprise, the boy next to him nodded his head in agreement before a smile and a set of deep dimples overcame his face.

“That’s okay, man. I've been looking at this thing for two years and I still have no clue what it is.” As the boy spoke, he clapped Luke on the back.

“I’m Ashton, by the way. I don't think I've ever seen you around,” the boy, Ashton, said.

Luke began to panic. He was convinced that his cover was about to be blown, but he kept his cool as best as he could and said what Calum had told him to say in this kind of situation.

“This is my first year here. That’s why you've never seen me before.” Luke said in a surprisingly calm and confident manner. Technically, it wasn't a lie. Ashton nodded his head in understanding.

“Makes sense. Where are you living? Munger Hall or the East Green?”

The panic began bubbling up in Luke’s throat again, but he pushed it down.

“I actually don't live on campus. My apartment isn't too far from here so I commute.”

“Nice!” Ashton hummed. “Well it was really nice talking to you, man, but I got to get to class. See you around?”

“Yeah, sure,” Luke nodded.

He watched as Ashton began walking away. He took a few steps before turning back to Luke.

“Hey, I never caught your name,” Ashton shouted over a large crowd of people that was pushing past him into the building.

“My name’s Luke!” Luke shouted back.

Ashton nodded and gave him a small salute before turning on his heel and making his way into the art building. Luke waited a few minutes before hurrying inside the building as well. He was a few minutes late to a lecture about Paleolithic fertility statues, but he figured it was worth it since he made a potential friend.

-

It was almost a week since their first meeting when Luke and Ashton saw each other again. Luke was walking past the dining hall on his way to the library and was completely absorbed in the music playing from his headphones. Ashton was walking across the quad when he spotted Luke.

“Hey, Luke!” Ashton called, but received no response.

Ashton jogged the rest of the way across the quad to catch up with Luke and he lightly laid a hand on the taller boy’s shoulders. Luke flinched at the contact.

When Luke saw it was only Ashton, his expression softened. The panic in his eyes dimmed to embarrassment and he felt bad for reacting in such a way, but he had been picked on and shoved around so many times in the past (by his parents and also his former classmates) that Luke immediately assumed that someone was going to hurt him.

“I’m sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!” Ashton apologized, his mouth turned down into a curious frown due to Luke’s reaction.

Once Luke was able to calm his heart rate down, he gave the other boy a small smile.

“It’s okay,” Luke said, mindlessly playing with his phone.

“So how have you been?” Ashton asked, eyes wide and smile sincere, as if Luke’s strange behavior didn't bother him. Luke decided that he really liked Ashton.

“Alright,” Luke replied as he shifted the weight of the books in his arms.

“Where are you headed?” Ashton asked, completely unfazed by Luke’s poor conversational skills.

“I’m going to the library,” Luke replied.

“You know, I've been here for two years and I never once stepped inside that library. It gives me the creeps for some reason.” Ashton said.

Luke couldn't deny that Ashton did have a point. From the outside, the building looked like a setting for a horror movie, but on the inside, it was surprisingly modern. Luke almost made a joke about not judging a book by its cover, but he decided that he didn’t know Ashton well enough yet to tell him corny jokes.

“So, uh, where are you headed?” Luke asked, trying to keep the conversation going so there would be no awkward silence.

“I’m gonna get a bite to eat,” Ashton nodded towards the dining hall. “If you're not too busy, you should come with me.”

Luke pulled his lip ring between his teeth nervously before he decided _why the hell not?_

“O-okay,” he stammered. “If that’s okay.”

Ashton just smiled reassuringly and bumped Luke’s wider shoulders with his own playfully.

“C'mon, it’s Spaghetti Wednesday!”

-

It turns out that going into the cafeteria with Ashton was not one of Luke’s brighter ideas. A quick scan of the menu confirmed that Luke didn't have enough money to buy anything to eat. He settled on telling Ashton the lie that he had already eaten earlier in the day and that he wasn't hungry. He ignored the way his empty stomach twisted uncomfortably at his words.

“So,” Ashton began around a mouthful of spaghetti. “I have this art thing on Saturday night. It’s a gallery show and a few of my pieces are in it. I was wondering if you'd be interested in swinging by?”

Luke thought for a moment. He did really like Ashton and he wanted the curly-haired boy to like him too. He didn't want to ruin a potential friendship by not hanging out whenever Ashton asked him to, but he really didn't want to go by himself and the idea sounded significantly more appealing at the thought of someone going with him.

“Could I bring a friend?” Luke asked.

Ashton gave him a wide, sauce covered grin.

“The more the merrier!”

-

At first, Calum wasn't exactly thrilled that Luke was dragging him to an art show, but once he met Ashton, the dark-haired boy seemed to have a change of heart. What started out as an evening filled with Calum’s incessant complaining turned into a night full of Calum’s not so subtle and completely obvious pining. Luke didn't know which was worse.

“He’s so cute, Luke!” Calum practically squealed in Luke’s ear once they had a moment alone.

That kind of came as a shock to Luke because even though Luke knew that Calum was bisexual, he had never seen his older friend with anyone other than a girl.

 “Why didn't you tell me your friend was so hot?” Calum playfully punched Luke’s shoulder.

Luke shrugged. He did think Ashton was attractive, he just didn't think he was Calum’s type.

“Oh my God, he’s coming back,” Calum said, running a hand nervously through his dyed blond fringe. It was endearing to see him so flustered over a guy. Luke wished he could be as open and okay with his feelings as Calum was, but his parents beating him and disowning him made him a bit afraid of expressing himself.

When Ashton returned, he had a sour expression on his face and Calum immediately looked ready to physically harm whoever caused the shorter boy discomfort.

“You okay, Ash?” Luke asked.

Ashton just nodded, looking around the room distractedly before his eyes landed on whatever he appeared to be searching for.

“I can't believe they're here,” Ashton groaned and went to run a hand through his mop of curls before he remembered that he had tied it up in a bun in an attempt to look more presentable for the event.

“Who’s here?” Calum asked, eyes scanning the crowd as well.

“The Cliffords,” Ashton replied, his mouth falling into a frown around the last name.

“Clifford?” Luke asked. “As in Clifford Library?”

“That’s the one,” Ashton said.

Luke turned to face the crowd, his eyes immediately landing on the family that he assumed was The Cliffords. There was a man and a woman, both very frigid and sterile looking, but that’s not who Luke’s eyes were drawn to.

Luke heard his voice before he actually saw him. He spoke loudly, making sure his presence was known amongst the crowd. It was a low, rough voice that also somehow managed to be as smooth as honey. His voice rang out from where he was standing with his parents. The small family of three was standing in front of an abstract painting. The artist who had created the masterpiece was standing off to the right, nervously wringing her hands behind her back.

“I don't like it,” Luke heard someone say from across the room and his eyes connected with the owner of the voice. It was a boy, about Luke’s age, with dyed red hair and naturally bright red lips to match. The two boys looked at each other for a moment before the fake red head quirked a brow at Luke and the blond boy took notice of an eyebrow piercing that he didn't see before.

The woman standing next to the boy, who Luke assumed was the boy’s mother, narrowed her eyes in agreement.

“Daryl,” she said, turning to the man next to her. “Michael and I don't like this one.”

The man, Daryl, nodded his head.

“Would you like to leave then? I'm not seeing any worthwhile pieces here,” he said.

“I agree. This is a waste of our time,” the woman conceded.

“Let’s go over there,” the boy, _Michael_ , pointed towards Luke and his friends.

Ashton’s face grew as pale as snow as The Cliffords made their way over to his section of the gallery.

Calum placed a reassuring hand on the curly haired boy’s shoulder and Luke wasn't sure anymore if Ashton was about to faint from the snobby family that was currently making their way over to him or from the brief contact that he had with Calum.

-

Luke quickly learned why The Cliffords were so disliked. Their personalities were as stale as the air in the library they funded. They were spoiled, each and every one of them. It was apparent in the way they carried themselves. They all seemed to walk with their noses upturned, as if they felt they were more important than the people around them. Luke felt his chest tighten as they approached. Something in the air around them had Luke choking back tears. Maybe it was the way the oldest members of the trio fixed him with a judgmental glare, or maybe it was the fact that the youngest one, Michael, wore a bored and unamused expression on his face as he took in the artwork before him. Ashton fidgeted nervously with the extra hair tie around his wrist as he waited for the inevitable ego-damaging critique that he was about to receive.

In Luke’s opinion, Ashton’s art was extraordinary. More often than not, the curly-haired boy dabbled with an impressionistic style that Luke was very fond of. And no, he’s not being bias because Ashton is his only friend (except for Calum, of course). Luke genuinely believes that Ashton is extremely talented, which is why he feels himself growing more impatient with each passing second that Ashton’s work is subjected to The Clifford’s scrutinizing gaze.

Luke cleared his throat; the words to defend his friend’s honor were right on the tip of his tongue. The family turned towards Luke at the noise. Michael looked at him in such a way that suggested he hadn't noticed that the blond had been there the entire time and for some reason, that infuriated Luke.

Michael’s green orbs burned into Luke’s blue ones. Internally, Luke was telling the family to fuck off with whatever critique they were about to give. Luke thought he was acting tough, but whatever expression was written across his face caused one corner of Michael’s mouth to pull up into a smug smirk.

“It’s boring,” Michael said, turning his head to look at his father. “I’m bored. Let’s go home.”

“I have to agree with you, Michael,” Daryl conceded in a gruff voice.

Michael fixed Luke with a hard stare, as if his eyes could strip away the flesh from Luke’s bones and lay all of his secrets bare. Michael wasn’t just looking at him, he was looking _into_ him and even though Luke was fully clothed, he felt completely exposed under the other boy’s gaze. Michael was looking at Luke so intensely, like he wanted to pick Luke apart cell by cell and reconstruct him in an entirely different way. Luke didn't know what Michael was looking for, but whatever he found caused a dangerous light to flicker in his green eyes, like a wildfire consuming a forest. The motion caused Luke’s heart to clench in panic and his mind to send out warning signals to _stay away from Michael Clifford_. Michael flashed Luke a knowing smirk before looking Ashton directly in the eye.

“Your work is tasteless and I wouldn't have even noticed it except for the fact that it’s so big,” Michael gestured vaguely to the large canvas in front of him. “I believe you just ruined art for me. That’s a shame too, seeing as it was the one thing I actually enjoyed.”

With that, The Cliffords all turned on their heels in a scarily synchronized motion and exited the gallery, leaving Ashton, Luke, and Calum to process their words in silence. When what Michael said had finally sunk in several seconds later, Calum clenched his fists at both sides and went to follow after them, but Ashton grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Please,” the hazel-eyed boy begged, “don't embarrass me further.”

Calum’s hard expression softened when he took in Ashton’s glassy eyes, sparkling with the tears he was trying so hard not to shed. Calum pulled the shorter boy into a hug. He let Ashton tuck his head into the crook of his neck and let the first tears fall. Luke just stood off to the side, vaguely aware of the fact that he should be the one comforting Ashton, seeing as Ashton and Calum only just met, but he couldn't shake himself out of his trance. He couldn't stop staring at the door that The Cliffords just left through. And he certainly couldn't stop thinking about the way Michael subtly winked at him before he let the door close behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter probably won't be posted for another week or so, seeing as I have all my finals this week and will be focusing more on that.  
> Michael's insult towards Ashton's artwork was inspired by something Edgar Degas said.  
> Also, a huge congratulations to my best friend [Kristen](http://ashketchumirwin.tumblr.com//) for graduating college today!
> 
> find me on tumblr @ [abofics](http://abofics.tumblr.com//)


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally done with my semester, which means that I have plenty of time to focus on this story!

Luke avoided going to Clifford Library after the incident. He just didn't feel right spending his time in a place named after someone who had hurt his friend. Michael’s comment that night in the gallery caused Ashton to go into a funk. He became distant and Luke barely saw the bright-eyed boy days following the art show. Luke had been so concerned that he even plucked up the courage to ask Hannah, another art major and one of Ashton’s friends, if she had heard from him at all. Hannah told Luke that Ashton had locked himself inside his dorm room and refused to leave. Apparently, he had been living only on ramen noodles and water until Luke and Calum busted down his door. The sound of Brand New blasting from some speakers on the floor and the stench of microwavable noodles and sweat confirmed that Luke wasn't wrong with his excessive worrying about his friend. Ashton was half-asleep on his bed when Luke and Calum entered the room.

“What are you guys doing here?” Ashton mumbled into his pillow.

Luke sighed. He felt truly horrible for what was said that night, even if he wasn't the one that had said it.

“Let’s get you up,” Calum said as he approached the bed.

Ashton groaned as each of his arms was slung over Luke’s and Calum’s shoulders, enabling the boys to hoist Ashton up and take him towards the showers.

“No, I don't want to go in there,” Ashton complained as Luke and Calum carried him into a shower stall, receiving strange looks from other guys currently using the communal bathroom.

“You smell like feet, Ash. You're taking a shower whether you like it or not,” Calum said, using his stern, parental voice that he occasionally uses on Luke.

Ashton let out a grunt of disapproval but didn't protest anymore. He pulled himself away from the two other boys mumbling, “I don't need you guys to shower me,” before he pulled the shower curtain taut behind him.

-

Ashton bounced back several days later. He insisted that all he needed was the company of his two new friends to help him feel better, but Luke had a sneaking suspicion that Ashton’s happiness may have had something to do with the fact that Calum finally mustered up the courage to ask the curly-haired boy out on a proper date.

(Luke tried not to think about what it meant that Calum didn't come back home until after two in the morning, sporting two very large hickies on either side of his neck.)

Fortunately, Luke didn't see Michael Clifford on campus at all. He was shocked to learn that Michael even went to school, seeing as his parents were probably rich enough to fund him throughout the rest of his life. Michael could go his entire life without working a single day and his parents would have enough money to support him. Luke definitely was not bitter about that. He was glad he hadn't seen Michael on campus yet. After that stunt he pulled at the art show, Luke wasn't sure if he'd be able to refrain from punching the other boy right in the jaw.

Luke was mad at Michael for multiple reasons. He was obviously mad about what Michael had said and the way his words caused Ashton to spiral into a ramen-induced coma. But he was also strangely unsettled by the fact that whenever Luke went to close his eyes at night, he would see of flash of emerald eyes and pale skin. It was a shame, Luke thought, how beautiful Michael was on the outside, yet how hideous all other aspects of him were.

-

Luke’s luck was bound to run out eventually. Deep down he knew that he would somehow run into Michael Clifford again one day, he just didn't think he would quite so literally _run_ into the guy.

“Watch where you're fucking going!” Michael shouted after his and Luke’s bodies roughly collided.

“Sorry,” Luke mumbled, not even bothering to look up at the person he bumped into. He was collecting the books that he dropped because of the collision. He was just about to reach for the copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ that Calum gave him when a black boot stepped on top of it, preventing Luke from picking it up.

“Do you mind?” Luke was agitated. He was already late enough to class as it was; he did not need this guy giving him a hard time.

“I said I was sorry!” Luke snapped, looking up for the first time and meeting Michael’s evergreen irises.

Luke’s mouth dropped open into a shocked ‘o’ as he stared blankly up at Michael.

“You should really watch where you're going, twink,” Michael said teasingly.

There was a brief pause and Michael cocked an eyebrow at Luke, challenging him. But Luke’s mouth was suddenly too dry to speak and his brain was too muddled to think of an equally offensive insult.

“You know,” Michael started again when it became apparent that Luke wasn't going to respond, “you look really good down on your knees.”

Luke was too stunned to say anything in return. This was only the second time that he interacted with Michael and each time the red-haired boy had somehow managed to both insult him and flirt with him at the same time.

Luke coughed uncomfortably and quickly gathered his things. He didn't even try to get his book out from under Michael’s boot. Luke really wanted to hit the other boy. He wanted to yell at Michael for insulting Ashton at the art show. He also wanted to stand up for himself, to scream in Michael’s face and prove that he wasn't a “twink.” But that’s not who Luke is. Luke is the guy that backs away from a fight. He would rather cower in a corner and hide away from his problems instead of bringing any unnecessary attention to himself. He wishes he could be tough, wishes that his confidence was as big as his body and as expansive as his shoulders, but as much as it pained Luke to leave without saying anything nasty to Michael, he couldn't bring himself to do anything other than duck his head and walk away as quickly as his obscenely long legs would carry him.

-

It was two days after Luke had had the displeasure of seeing Michael again. He was sitting at the very edge of the quad. There were a few wooden picnic tables set up under the trees that lined the edge of the field and Luke was enjoying re-writing his psych notes while listening to a group of boys play soccer. Luke felt completely at ease, enjoying the alone time and the personal space that he so rarely got in his and Calum’s cramped apartment. He was relishing in the way it seemed to be only him and his thoughts at the moment when someone sat down across from him at the table.

“Hey, twink,” the person said and Luke didn't even have to look up to know that Michael was smirking smugly at him.

Luke sighed. “What do you want, Michael?”

Michael feigned offence. “Is that any way to treat your friend?”

“We're not friends,” Luke said, continuing to re-write his notes.

“How do you know my name?” Michael asked, his stupid smile still in place.

“It’s on a building,” Luke muttered, trying to concentrate more on his notes than the way Michael’s foot kept brushing against his underneath the table. Luke pulled his feet away.

“My last name is on a building, but my first name isn't.”

Luke just shrugged. He really didn't care for Michael and had no desire to be having a conversation with him.

“So,” Michael concluded, “that means that you've heard about me. Maybe you've been talking about me with your friends?”

Luke’s plan was not to indulge Michael, but he thought this was the perfect opportunity to say what he wished he had said to the boy several days ago. Luke looked up from his notebook and plastered an overly sweet smile on his face.

“You're right, Michael,” he said condescendingly, as if he was talking to a child. “My friends and I have been talking about you.”

Michael raised an eyebrow and nodded his head slightly, signaling Luke to go on and that he liked what he was hearing.

“We were talking about what a dick you are. And how you and your parents have all this money, yet you can’t seem to buy yourself a decent personality.”

The look on Michael’s face was priceless and Luke really wished he could have taken a picture of it. The dyed red head was clearly not expecting those words to come out of Luke’s mouth and for a second, Michael was floundering for a response. Luke laughed at Michael’s shocked expression and he felt pride swell in his chest for showing the other boy that he’s not the pushover that Michael probably believed him to be. Luke didn't allow Michael the dignity of defending himself and he quickly stood up, gathered his things, and left the gaping red head alone on the quad.

-

Luke was exhausted. The rent for his and Calum’s apartment was raised and he started picking up more hours at the diner he worked at so he could contribute more to paying the bills. Seeing as the diner was almost directly across from the university, they were open 24/7. The diner was fairly busy during the night. Admittedly, it was not as bustling as it was during the lunch or dinner hours, but there was still a fair amount of sleep deprived college students who came wandering into Mo’s Diner at 2 am, looking to drown their stress with chocolate milkshakes and fried macaroni and cheese. Luke not only picked up the night shift, but he also moved up from his low position on the totem pole, going from busboy to waiter with his change in schedule. He worked a very long and tiring eight hours overnight from 11 pm to 7 am and Luke felt the change in his work and sleeping schedule take a large toll on his body.

Working the night shift was just as taxing as Luke thought it would be. After his first full week of the new shift, he was practically falling on his face. He stumbled his way across campus and somehow found himself at the library for the first time in weeks. He couldn't find the strength to walk the few blocks back to his apartment, so he settled for finding an empty table at the back of the library. He pushed two of the chairs together and propped himself up against a wall, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible, even though it didn't really matter at this point. He could have laid down on a bed of nails and still would have fallen asleep within minutes. Luke was down for the count only mere seconds later.

Luke jerked awake after what seemed like only minutes since he shut his eyes. After a quick glance at his cell phone, he realized he had been asleep for about four hours and that his shift at the diner was about to start again soon. As Luke slowly blinked awake and took in his surroundings, he was startled to see a person sitting at the table with him. He jumped slightly and banged his knee underneath the table. Rubbing his sore knee, Luke looked up at the stranger invading his personal space. He groaned when he realized who it was.

“You know, when my parents donated their money to help build this place, I think they meant for people to do actual research and stuff here, not fall asleep.” Michael mused.

“What do you want from me, Clifford?” Luke let his forehead meet the tabletop with a dull thud.

“I want to know why you don’t like me.”

Luke couldn't even believe Michael was a real person at this point. No one was seriously this self-absorbed.

“Because you're an ass.” Luke’s response was muffled against the table.

“You are what you eat,” Michael replied.

Luke choked. This wasn't real. He didn't believe this was actually happening. He was probably just having some weird nightmare instead of having this horribly awkward conversation with Michael.

“Why aren't you laughing? That was funny.” Michael sounded slightly offended at Luke’s lack of response. “Did you fall asleep again?”

Luke hit his forehead against the table in a feeble attempt to wake himself up.

“You say I'm the ass, yet you're the one who is rudely ignoring me,” Michael said, tone sharper this time.

“What are you doing here, Michael?” Luke finally spoke, lifting his head up to glare at the other boy.

Michael gestured to the shelves around him and then to the book that was on the table in front of him. Luke’s eyes narrowed when he recognized the book Michael had with him.

“Well, I’m at the library so obviously I'm reading. I’m not the one doing anything wrong here. You on the other hand…” Michael trailed off, picking up Luke’s copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and flipping the book open to a random page. He eyed Luke judgmentally over the top of the book.

“Well fucking excuse me for trying to catch up on sleep,” Luke snapped, reaching over the table in an attempt to snatch his book back from Michael. He had been denied sleep all week because of his new work schedule and it was making him irritated. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Michael right now.

“Watch your language, Lucas,” Michael tsked, pulling the book just out of Luke’s reach at the last minute.

“My name is Luke, not Lucas,” Luke said before narrowing his eyes. “How do you know my name?”

“The same way I knew you were in the library,” Michael said as if it was obvious.

“Which is?” Luke prodded.

“I've been following you,” Michael said nonchalantly, like what he just said wasn't completely weird and totally creepy.

“You what?” Luke practically screamed before he remembered he had to keep his voice down because he was in a library.

“It’s no big deal, really. I just wanted to learn more about you. I couldn't find you in the school’s database, which I found extremely peculiar,” Michael paused, looking at Luke like he knew something that the other boy didn’t. Luke rolled his eyes because _of course_ Michael would have access to all the school’s records. He probably paid someone off to be able to access those private files. “So I've been observing you,” Michael finished.

“Observing?” Luke asked incredulously.

“Yeah, you know, just following you around whenever I see you on campus.” Michael shrugged.

“That’s not observing, that’s _stalking_!” Luke was so disappointed that this wasn't a nightmare. If it was, the worst that would happen is that he would wake up with prickly skin, forehead damp with sweat, and maybe feel a little anxious before he fell back asleep. But this is real life and Luke doesn't know how to cope with the information he just received.

A thousand questions were running through Luke’s head so he settled on the thing that stood out the most. “How long has this been going on?” He asked.

“Since you so rudely left me in the middle of the quad,” Michael answered.

Luke had to think for a moment. His sleep deprived brain was slow at retrieving information, but he gasped when he realized that event occurred about a week ago.

“You've been following me for that long?” Luke couldn't believe how he didn't notice it before, although it wasn't completely surprising, seeing as Luke had been running strictly on energy drinks in a futile attempt to keep himself awake.

“Yep,” Michael started, “and I've learned some pretty interesting things.” The smile on Michael’s face was dangerous and Luke wanted to run.

“Why?” Luke asked, not wanting to think about the “interesting things” that Michael has apparently learned. “Why me?”

Michael leaned back in his chair, his eyes not so subtly raking up and down Luke’s body. Once again, the blond felt completely exposed under the other’s unrelenting gaze.

It was a moment before Michael spoke again. Luke noticed the way Michael’s eyes lingered on his tattered, faded black shirt. The blond boy suddenly felt very self-conscious. He knew Michael was probably judging the fact that Luke couldn't afford new clothes.

“You're something else,” Michael muttered softly, seemingly to himself, before his eyes met Luke’s again. The expression on Luke’s face was a mix of indignation and apprehension and Michael couldn't help but feel a little proud of how easily he could get Luke flustered.

“Why you?” Michael asked, leaning back in his seat. He placed his (Luke’s) copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ to the side and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Because,” Michael began, “I like what I like and I always get what I want. And I want you.”

Luke cringed. “I'm not some prize to be won.”

“But aren't you?” Michael asked, leaning forward quickly. He placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin over his hands. “You’re the one making this a game by playing hard to get.”

“How am I playing hard to get?” Luke would probably be shouting if he wasn't in a library.

“You're always telling me off and running away from me,” Michael replied.

There were so many things Luke wanted to say to Michael, but all of his words were combining, jumbling together in his mind and not allowing him to form a coherent thought. Luke shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“I've only run into you, like, twice,” Luke started, but Michael cut him off.

“Three times,” the other boy corrected.

“Whatever,” Luke grumbled. “But every time I've seen you, you've always been an asshole. I’m not “playing hard to get,” I just honestly don't want to be around you.”

“Why not?” Michael asked, his mouth unconsciously forming into a small pout.

“Because I don't even know you! And from what I've seen and heard about you, I know I wouldn't like you,” Luke yelled. He didn't care anymore that he was in the library.

“You're being unreasonable,” Michael snapped, his eyebrows furrowing together. He was getting fed up with Luke’s games. “I'm a perfectly nice guy,” Michael tried to defend himself.

“You’re fucking with me right? Are you forgetting about the art show? You know, when you basically told my friend that he was a piece of shit and should stop making art? That was the first time I had ever seen you and because of that, the first impression that I got of you is that you're a fucking snobby, rich momma’s boy who uses money instead of toilet paper to wipe his own asshole.” Luke stood up and slammed his hands against the table as he finished his rant. He towered over the dyed red head, glaring at him in such a way that caused Michael’s skin to burn.

Michael flinched at the sound Luke’s palms made when they slapped against the tabletop. There was something about the way Luke was staring at him, with his steely gaze and jaw clenched tight, that made Michael bite back the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to fight back, it was in his nature to, but he remained silent.

He watched as the fire in Luke’s eyes dimmed, only to be replaced by the dull and heavy weight of sleep deprivation. Luke held eye contact as he reached slowly across the table towards Michael. Michael couldn’t deny that his heart rate picked up at the uncertainty of what Luke was about to do. There was a long moment of tense silence before Luke’s hand finally came in contact with the forgotten copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ (well, Michael had forgotten about it, but apparently Luke hadn’t.)

Once Luke had his book back rightfully in his possession, he gathered the rest of his things and began making his way out of the library.

“Don't follow me this time,” Luke called over his shoulder as he began his walk to the diner to begin another grueling eight hours of work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me life and I'll love you forever if you decide to leave one!


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of some homophobic slurs.  
> Also, whoever spots the twenty one pilots reference gets a cookie.

“You look exhausted,” Calum said when Luke entered the apartment.

“I am,” Luke sighed as he put his things down on the coffee table in the living room. “What are you making?" Luke asked. "It smells good."

His curiosity was piqued. Calum normally wasn't much of a gourmand. The extent of his cooking skills was heating things up in the microwave and the rare pancake breakfast that Calum would surprise Luke with on special occasions. So to come home and see Calum following instructions out of a cookbook in an attempt to put together a full meal was fairly surprising to the blond.

“I'm making chicken stir fry,” Calum mumbled distractedly, his sharp eyes scanning the directions line for line. The sound of sizzling meat and vegetables confirmed his statement.

“Why? Are you parents visiting?”

“Nope,” Calum said, popping the “p” obnoxiously. “I invited Ashton over for dinner.”

“You must really like this guy,” Luke said before he realized something else. “Wait, so is this, like, a date? Do you want me to leave?”

“It is a date, but I want you to be here,” Calum replied. Seeing the confused look on Luke’s face, Calum explained, “I want your approval. I want to ask him to be my boyfriend officially and I need you to tell me if that’s alright.”

Luke thought it was endearing, really, how highly Calum thought of him, but he also felt it was a little unnecessary, seeing as Luke obviously liked Ashton.

“There’s nothing for me to approve. You know I already love Ash and if he makes you happy, then you should be with him.”

“I knew you would say that,” Calum sighed. “Just humor me, alright?”

Even though Calum sounded annoyed, the way he was beaming at Luke, silently thanking him a thousand times over, was enough to have Luke smiling as well.

-

The evening was a lot of fun, in Luke’s opinion. After Ashton arrived at their apartment, Luke took him on a tour of their home while Calum was finishing putting together their dinner. Granted, the tour wasn’t very long because their apartment is the size of a shoebox, but Ashton still oohed and aahed at the appropriate times which made both Luke and Calum extremely happy. (They were both slightly worried about Ashton being turned off by the fact that their apartment was about half the size of his dorm room, but Ashton didn't seem to mind. They felt bad for being worried in the first place)

After dinner, which turned out surprisingly well for Calum’s first real attempt at cooking, the three boys grabbed a bottle of beer each and made themselves comfortable in the living room. Calum and Ashton were sitting side by side on the couch, leaving Luke to curl up on the armchair by himself.

“So, Luke,” Ashton started after a moment of comfortable silence. Luke quirked an eyebrow and the curly-haired boy continued.

“Care to tell me why Michael Clifford came up to me today and started asking about you?” Ashton asked.

Luke’s blood froze at the mention of Michael’s name. His discomfort was probably obvious on his face because Calum shifted in his seat, leaning closer across the coffee table to get a better look at Luke in the dim lighting.

“Is he bothering you?” Calum sounded threatening and Luke had to remind himself that he wasn’t the one Calum was mad at.

“Sort of? I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just…being Michael,” Luke thought that was a good enough explanation. Michael is Michael. There’s really no other way to describe the green-eyed boy. When he saw both Calum and Ashton squint their eyes in confusion, Luke realized that they wouldn’t understand what he meant by that statement because out of the three of them, he was the only one that knew Michael the best. Well, he didn't really _know_ Michael, but he still talked to him more than his two friends had. That thought caused a tingly feeling to swell and burst in Luke’s chest and he tried not to think about it too much. Calum and Ashton were still staring at Luke and it took the blond boy a moment to realize that they were waiting for him to elaborate on his former statement.

“He just, like, insists on talking to me. And following me, apparently.”

“Following you?” Ashton asked.

“Yeah, he said he’s been watching me for a while,” Luke looked down at his hands in his lap, feeling more anxious as the conversation went on.

Luke had plenty of time during work to think about his latest conversation with Michael. He spent several hours in the early morning replaying Michael’s words over and over again in his mind. Michael had mentioned that he had noticed some “pretty interesting things” and that thought caused Luke’s stomach to twist uncomfortably. If Michael had been following Luke for a while, then he probably noticed the way Luke never enters the classroom and always listens to his lectures sitting outside in the hall. Michael was the one person who Luke did not want to know about his secret. Michael undoubtedly had the authority (and the money) to get Luke thrown off campus for good and it was imperative that the dyed red head stayed in the dark.

“He said he has noticed some things about me, things that I do when I’m on campus that he doesn’t understand.” Luke looked at Calum as he said the last part and the dark-haired boy immediately understood what Luke was alluding to.

“You can’t tell him anything, Luke,” Calum said, trying to be as cryptic as possible because Ashton was in the room and the smaller boy still didn't know the secret that Luke isn't technically a student at their school. “You can’t let him find out.”

“Obviously he can’t find out,” Luke mumbled.

“What will you tell him if he asks you about it?” Calum asked.

“I don’t know. You know how I suck at lying,” Luke said, exasperated. He didn’t want Michael to know the truth, but if the older boy were to question him about it and look at him with those piercing green eyes, Luke isn’t so sure that he’d be able to keep it a secret much longer. There was something about Michael’s gaze that made Luke feel like putty in the other boy’s hands.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ashton asked from his corner of the couch. “What can’t he find out?”

Calum and Luke looked at each other for a moment before reaching a silent agreement.

“Ash,” Luke started. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

-

Ashton took the news surprisingly well. Luke didn’t know what he was expecting, to be honest. Maybe he figured Ashton would be upset that he lied to him, maybe call him a “fake” or an “imposture” and storm out of the apartment. But this was sweet, innocent Ashton that Luke was dealing with and he should have known that nothing but complete acceptance and understanding was the reaction that he would receive from the hazel-eyed boy.

“I know it’s not exactly legal, but I can understand why you’re doing it. I wish I had the balls to do that so I wouldn't be in so much debt. Don't worry, Luke, your secret is safe with me,” was all Ashton had to say.

The three boys ended the night on a high note. Both Luke and Calum felt like they cleared the air and now that the secret was out, they could all relax and talk easily amongst themselves until the early hours of the morning. Luke was still exhausted from his new work schedule, so he was the first one to turn in for the night.

Luke lay in his bed, trying his best not to think about boys with green eyes and impossibly red lips, and ignoring the way he heard his two friends in the other room speak to each other in quiet whispers. At one point, Luke could have sworn that he heard Ashton practically squeal and say “yes,” but then the two boys fell into a silence again and all that could be heard throughout the apartment was the sound of whispered laughter and wet kisses.

Luke assumed that Calum and Ashton had officially become boyfriends.

-

Luke became paranoid whenever he was on campus. He was constantly watching over his shoulder, double-checking his surroundings whenever he walked to class. If Michael was watching him, then he must have been hiding because there was no trace of the red head anywhere. Luke felt strangely alone the next time he went to the library and there was no obnoxiously rich boy there to bother him.

Days passed by rather uneventfully. Luke listened to his lectures, spent some time studying in the library, ate lunch with Ashton (Ashton ate while Luke stared at his food resentfully), and went to work the night shift at Mo’s Diner. His schedule was hectic and sometimes he felt like there was barely enough time for him to properly catch his breath, but he loved it at the same time. Being on campus during the day and working at the diner at night gave Luke a sense of purpose in his life that had been previously lacking. He began thinking that maybe this was what he needed all along.

The price Luke had to pay for working so hard was not being able to take care of himself. One day when Luke was walking to class, he felt a little light-headed. He ignored the feeling, telling himself that it was normal for him to feel that way since he skipped breakfast that morning (and dinner the night before). He walked about ten more feet before his vision started darkening and suddenly the ground was coming closer to Luke’s face with every passing second. By the time his body hit the ground, Luke was unconscious.

-

It hurt Luke to open his eyes. It felt as if each eyelid was being weighed down by a ton of bricks. He was trying his hardest, at least he thought he was, but it was hard to tell if he was actually putting up a fight or if he was slipping further into unconsciousness. Eventually, though, he was able to pry his eyes open.

His blue eyes met the equally blue sky above him and he winced at the throbbing pain the brightness caused. There was a figure standing over him, but he couldn’t see exactly who it was. His vision still wasn’t completely back to normal and everything around him resembled the ink smudges he would accidentally get on his homework. Luke figured that probably wasn’t a good thing.

The person standing over him leant down and was suddenly only inches away from Luke’s face. Luke didn’t mind so much, seeing as the other person’s head blocked the glare from the sun. The stranger was backlit by the sun and Luke thought whoever it was that was above him looked like an angel. The person’s quick movements made Luke dizzy and it took him several minutes to realize that the person was talking to him, but the shrill ringing in his ears prevented him from hearing anything the person was saying. Whoever it was held up several fingers in front of Luke’s face and when Luke’s only response was to shut his eyes again and groan, he felt himself being lifted off the ground.

What felt like hours later, Luke was being put down again, but this time on something much softer. Whoever was carrying him was gentle with his lanky body and took extra precaution that his head wasn't jerked around too much. At this point, Luke was feeling a little better and he was strong enough to open his eyes once more. He immediately noticed that the darkness had drastically subsided and with the exception of a few dark spots here and there, there was nothing obstructing his vision. He turned his head to the leftand winced a little as a sharp pain shot through the back of his skull.

“Easy there,” he heard a voice say. The voice didn’t sound so far away this time.

The mystery person knelt down next to Luke’s head and softly prodded their fingers along Luke’s forehead. Seemingly confident that that wasn’t the source of Luke’s pain, the person moved their fingers to the back of Luke’s head. Luke winced again when the person touched a sensitive spot on his skull.

“I think you should go to the hospital,” the person spoke above him.

“What happened?” Luke asked, trying to figure out why exactly he woke up on the ground with a throbbing headache.

“You passed out on your way to class,” the person said, letting their fingers linger on Luke’s forehead.

Luke tried his best to focus his eyes on the person next to him. It took him several minutes and a lot of concentration before the person’s features became more noticeable. The first thing Luke noticed was blue hair.

The next thing he noticed was green eyes.

“You…” Luke trailed off, not believing that Michael was the mystery person who was helping him. “You're not real,” Luke muttered stupidly.

Michael chuckled and let his fingers slide down over Luke’s cheek before he retracted his hand.

“Yeah, I think you definitely need to go to the hospital,” Michael laughed.

“I can’t go to the hospital,” Luke groaned.

“Can you sit up on your own or do I still have to help you?” Michael asked, ignoring Luke’s protest.

“I think I can get up,” Luke said, attempting to prop himself up on his elbows. It was then that he realized that he was lying down across the backseat of a car.

Michael must have noticed Luke's puzzled expression. “I figured you'd need to go to the hospital,” Michael shrugged like it was no big deal. “Come on, sit up some more so I can buckle you in.”

-

The drive to the hospital was nerve wracking for Luke. He knew Michael was trying to help (why, he didn’t know), but he also knew that there was no way he would be able to afford the hospital bill that he would inevitably receive.

While Luke was nervously chewing his bottom lip between his teeth in the backseat, Michael spent the majority of the car ride trying to avoid hitting the potholes in the road and cursing under his breath, saying something about how the government doesn’t use their tax money correctly.

Luke thought it was pretty cute.

-

They eventually arrived at the hospital and Luke couldn’t even find the strength within him to tell Michael that he couldn’t go in. Monetary issues aside, Luke knew that he had seriously injured his head, so he swallowed past the bile that was rising from his throat and allowed Michael to help him out of the car.

After Michael had explained what happened to the woman behind the front desk, she handed them a stack of papers to fill out. Looking at the words on the paper hurt Luke's eyes, so Michael read Luke the questions aloud and Luke answered the best he could.

“Full name?” Michael asked.

“Luke Robert Hemmings,” Luke replied.

“Age?

“18.”

“Date of birth?”

“July 16, 1996.”

“What insurance do you have?” Michael questioned him.

Luke paused. “I, uh, I don’t actually have insurance,” Luke answered, looking at the floor instead of Michael. From the corner of his eye, he saw Michael writing things down on the form. He felt bad that he had Michael take him all the way to the hospital just to find out that Luke can’t pay for the visit.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled.

Michael snorted. “It’s whatever. I have loads of money so this won’t break the bank.”

“What?” Luke asked. He didn’t understand what Michael was trying to say.

“I’ll pay for you, dummy. It’s no big deal,” Michael responded. His mouth curled into a smirk, but Luke didn’t recognize it as the arrogant smile Michael normally wore around him. This one seemed genuine and rather fond. Luke looked away before Michael could see the blush spreading across his cheeks.

Luke was called to the back shortly after Michael handed in all the official hospital forms they had filled out. Even though Luke was feeling marginally better, Michael still insisted that Luke should lean most of his weight on him while they walked. One of Luke’s arms was around Michael’s waist and his head was resting on top of the other boys. Luke couldn’t help but notice that Michael smelled really good.

Before his thoughts went any further than that, he was greeted by Dr. Farber, a middle aged woman with a pleasant face. She eyed the two boys with a small smile and ushered them into the examining room. She performed a few of her own tests before bringing Luke into a back room for a CT scan.

“Well, Luke,” Dr. Farber said, looking over the scan results, “you have a minor concussion. It’s not fatal though, I’ve seen a lot worse. There are a few things that you can’t do right now because they’ll be straining to you so you’re lucky you have such a great boyfriend to take care of you.” She smiled warmly at Luke, her eyes looking back and forth between the two boys.

“Boyfriend?” Luke squeaked at the same time Michael said, “I’d do anything for my lover.” Luke was mortified and Michael was trying his hardest to hold in his laughter.

“With that being said,” Dr. Farber continued, ignoring the immature boys, “you need to eat more. You passed out because of low blood sugar and you're severely underweight. If you have an eating disorder, we can sign you up for counseling right here in this building.”

Michael was oddly silent as Luke replied, “No, I promise I don't have an eating disorder. I just…don't have time to eat.”

He knew the doctor probably wouldn't believe him, but he wasn't really telling a lie. He didn't have much time to eat between going to class and going to work. What he avoided saying was that even if he did have the time to eat, he doesn't have the money to afford any food.

“Okay,” Dr. Farber said, seemingly placated. “If you experience anymore head pain you can take some pain relievers. I would suggest taking either some Advil or some Tylenol, whichever you have the most success with. You should also get plenty of rest. Avoid strenuous activities. No sports and no sex," she sent Michael a pointed look when she said that. Luke's cheeks blushed a dark crimson colour. "And don’t drive for a few days. When he falls asleep,” the doctor turned to Michael, “make sure to wake him up every three hours.”

“Got it,” Michael replied, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Good,” Dr. Farber said. “You two are free to go, then.”

-

“So,” Michael said as they were walking through the hospital lobby. Michael stared at the blond expectantly and it made Luke nervous.

“What?” Luke asked.

Michael just rolled his eyes. “You're welcome,” he snapped sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” Luke muttered.

“Wow, don't mention it. It’s not like I saved your life or something,” Michael’s tone was sharp and the sarcasm was still evident.

“You didn't save my life, though. I have a concussion, not some life threatening disease.” Luke argued.

“Can't you just be grateful? I did just waste my money on you,” Michael replied.

“Sorry that my health is such a waste of money,” Luke said angrily.

“Sorry that you're such a waste of time,” Michael retorted, dumping Luke onto the first chair he saw in the lobby. The pain of Michael’s words hurt more than his bruised head being jostled.

“You know, I was going to thank you. I was gonna say it in the car, but then you had to force it out of me. Why does everything have to be on your terms?” Luke said, aggravated.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Michael said, defiantly crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don't play dumb, Clifford. You know what I'm referring to. If you want to get to know me so badly, then why don't you just talk to me like a normal human being instead of following me around like a creep?”

“Yeah, because every time I try to talk to you, you welcome me with open arms. You're so fucking rude, Hemmings and you don't even realize it.” Michael seethed.

“That’s because of what you said to Ashton! How was I supposed to be nice to you after what you did to him?” Luke shot back.

“You're still hung up over that? Why do you even care so much about that stupid faggot?” Michael yelled.

“He’s my friend,” Luke answered. “And you're not, so leave me alone.”

“Fine. Have it your way. All you twinks are all the same.”

“Fuck off, Michael,” Luke snapped.

“Choke on a dick, Hemmings. It’s probably the only thing you're good at,” Michael said as he stormed out of the hospital. The way Michael said it, with so much venom in his voice, made Luke recoil as if he was slapped across the face.

Luke looked down at his lap and tried to ignore the way everyone around was staring at him. He discreetly tried to wipe the tears from his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket and called Calum to come pick him up.

He cursed himself for ever thinking that Michael Clifford was an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch Michael is rude and he has a zero to sixty personality that is really fun to write because he's unpredictable even to me. Also, does Australia have health insurance? I'm sorry I honestly don't know, but for the sake of this chapter it does.  
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting. Reading the comments on this fic literally makes my day and I need you to know that you're all wonderful people! Thank you!!!


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm a little late posting this. I was having a really hard time figuring out what to do with this chapter. I re-wrote this chapter several times trying to make it perfect and I hope I succeeded.  
> There is slight smut ahead! Just a warning for anyone who isn't comfortable with that. It's only like one paragraph though and it's really not detailed.

“Luke! Are you okay?” Calum’s frantic shouting sounded through the quiet hospital lobby.

Once he found his younger friend curled up on a chair, Calum dropped to his knees in front of Luke and took the blond's face between his hands. He was still in his work clothes and he had motor oil smudged across his face. Luke felt a twinge of guilt for making Calum leave work early just for him.

“What happened?” Calum asked, his eyes quickly scanning over Luke's body to see if any bones were broken or wounds were visible.

“I fell and hit my head,” Luke said, trying to pry his face out from between Calum's hands.

“Okay,” Calum said as he dropped his hands, relief overcoming his worried expression. “Do you think you have a concussion?”

“Yeah, but a minor one. I should be fine in a few days,” Luke replied.

“You already talked to the doctor?” Calum questioned.

“Yeah, she told me that I don't have a serious concussion and that I should just avoid physical activity for a bit.” Luke blushed a bit, remembering what the doctor said about not having sex with Michael for a while.

“How did you get here by yourself?” Calum asked.

Luke didn't reply immediately. He really didn't want his older, more protective friend to know that Michael Clifford was the one who took him to the hospital.

“I, uh, someone drove me here. Someone from school helped me after I passed out, but I was still too out of it to tell who it was,” Luke lied. He was a horrible liar and he hoped that Calum would believe him and not question him further.

“And then they just left you here?” Calum asked in a way that suggested that he knew he had caught Luke in a lie.

“Um, I said that you'd come and get me so they didn't need to stick around,” Luke replied.

Calum nodded his head slowly, clearly not believing Luke's lie, but was too worried about his head injury to interrogate the boy anymore.

“Okay,” Calum sighed. “Let's get you home.”

-

Ashton was already there when Calum and Luke entered the apartment. He had a pot of macaroni boiling on the stove and piano music softly playing from his phone. Luke didn't miss the look of complete adoration Calum had on his face when he took in the scene before him. Luke laughed at how utterly domestic his friends were.

“Hey,” Ashton called from the kitchen when he heard the two other boys come home.

“Hey, baby,” Calum replied. He helped Luke lay down on the couch before he walked into the kitchen and left kisses on his boyfriend's cheek before pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then finally his lips, making both boys one combined giggling mess in the middle of the kitchen.

No, the uncomfortable feeling in Luke’s chest was definitely _not_ jealousy.

Calum and Ashton talked quietly amongst themselves as Ashton drained the spaghetti and mixed in the marinara sauce. Calum must have been telling Ashton about Luke’s little accident because the curly-haired boy looked worriedly over at where his younger friend lay sprawled out on the couch. Luke just sighed and smiled weakly at Ashton before he let his eyes drift close so he could replay the day's previous events behind his eyelids.

He was confused about Michael. Luke didn't understand Michael's personality. One minute, Michael would be nice and normal and he actually  _helpful_ , but then the next minute he would act angry and spiteful and his words would hurt Luke worse than if the boy decided to hit him. At this point, Luke was convinced that his headache was more due to whiplash from Michael's mood swings rather than from his concussion.

Luke knew that Michael was dangerous. He could tell immediately that Michael was just some stuck-up rich kid with a “holier-than-thou” attitude. What Luke didn't understand was why Michael was so interested in him. The two of them could not be more different. Michael came from a rich family who supported him and Luke didn't have the privilege of either of those things.

(Even though Luke knew it was stupid, he couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of Michael. The boy had everything Luke had ever wanted.)

Luke kept arguing with himself. Deep down, Luke knew that Michael was no good for him. Luke insisted on listening to the voice inside his head, the voice that appeared the first time he saw Michael, and to heed its warning when it said _stay away_ , but sometimes Luke would catch Michael doing things that were actually pretty nice and that was enough to draw Luke in towards Michael, like a moth to a flame.

Even though almost every part of him was telling him to hate Michael, Luke couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it is simply because Luke is a shallow, hormonal teenage boy and Michael is beautiful. With his piercing green eyes and sinfully red lips, the boy could be a model.

Or maybe it's because, despite how horrible everyone thinks Michael is, he has shown Luke that he is capable of caring for others. Luke doesn't want to assume, but he's pretty sure that he's one of the only people who has seen Michael's softer side. That thought may or may not cause a swarm of butterflies to invade Luke's stomach, but Luke quickly pushes that feeling aside.

 No, that's  _definitely_ not the reason why he doesn't hate Michael.

-

Luke was alone on campus the next day. Ashton should have left for class with him, but when Luke went into Calum's room to wake his friends up in the morning, he walked in on something that he never wanted to see. It was his own fault, he should have known better, should have knocked, but he didn't and now he has to live with the consequences of his lack of judgment. Luke could have gone his entire life without seeing what he did and he would have been perfectly okay, but now he's scarred for life, all because he didn't knock.

Calum was holding Ashton's hair back as he fucked himself into his boyfriend's mouth. Both boys had their eyes shut tightly as Calum rocked back and forth. Ashton hummed around Calum's length, causing his boyfriend's hips to stutter forward and his thighs to shake. Ashton's chin was wet with what was probably a combination of saliva and Calum's pre-come. Luke made a little shocked noise and Calum's head whipped up at the sound. When he noticed Luke in the doorway, he jerked forward in surprise and the sudden movement caused Ashton to gag around the older boy's cock. The feeling of Ashton's throat constricting and squeezing around him caused Calum to come in the other boy's mouth. Calum looked embarrassed for all of five seconds before he pushed Ashton back against the mattress and started sucking at his neck. They didn’t appear to be stopping any time soon (and Luke realized that Ashton had no intention of getting out of bed at all), so Luke slammed the door shut and took a long shower, desperately wishing he could wash the image of his friends down the drain. Seeing (and accidently making) his best friend come was _not_ how Luke wanted to start his day.

-

Luke didn't mind spending the day without his friends. Given what he had walked in on that morning in Calum's room, he thought a little separation was good, but he also genuinely enjoyed having his own space. Calum and Ashton were always in the apartment with him and Luke sometimes got frustrated by the lack of time he was able to spend alone.

He only had one class in the afternoon and then he planned on spending the rest of the day in the library before his shift started at the diner. After listening in on an Art History lecture, he made his way to the back of the library to work on an essay he would have Ashton read later. He was alone for all of twenty minutes before someone sat down in the chair next to him. He didn't even have to look to see who it was. He was slightly annoyed that Michael was interrupting his quiet time, but there was also another part of him that yearned for Michael’s presence.

Michael didn't speak as he sat down. He just slid the tray of food he had across the table towards Luke before he leaned over a book and started reading. Luke's eyes flicked back and forth between the tray of food and the now blue-haired boy sitting next to him.

“Michael?” Luke asked after several seconds of silence.

Michael just hummed, too absorbed in his book to fully respond.

“What's this?” Luke asked, pointing to the tray of food.

“Food,” Michael replied.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I see that,” he said sarcastically and focused back on his essay.

“It's food for you,” Michael said and when Luke looked back up, the other boy was staring at him intently.

“For me?”

“Yeah, you know, so you don't pass out again,” Michael said.

Luke didn't know how to respond so he just stared dumbly back at Michael.

“Why are you even here today?” Michael asked, his tone was getting sharper with each word he spoke. “You should be in bed resting.”

“Why do you even care?” Luke asked.

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He kept his eyes closed as he slowly said, “I don't know.”

“Well that clears things up,” Luke mumbled.

Michael's eyes snapped open and Luke froze like a deer caught in headlights.

“When's the last time you ate, Hemmings?” Michael asked.

“Last night,” Luke replied and it wasn't a lie. His boss was nice enough to let him take the night off from work and he was able to eat the spaghetti Ashton made for dinner.

“Just eat,” Michael sighed and Luke looked towards the tray again.

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but of course his stomach chose that particular moment to growl loudly. Granted, it didn't really growl _that_ loudly, but in the quiet of the library, the sound was amplified. Michael looked at him with an “I-told-you-so” kind of smirk on his face. Luke eyed the tray of food. Michael had a wide variety of food stacked up high on the plate.

“I didn't know what you like so I just got a little bit of everything,” Michael said shyly and Luke thought he saw Michael's cheeks redden.

“Thank you,” Luke said as he tore off a piece of a muffin and shoved it in his mouth.

“Don't mention it,” Michael replied. He picked up his book again and the two boys sat in silence for a while.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw that Michael was reading his own copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Luke smiled around a mouthful of French fries and Michael couldn't help but grin at him when he realized what the other boy was smiling at. Michael shifted in his seat so he was a fraction of an inch closer to Luke and patted the blond's thigh. His hand lingered for a moment and he looked up at Luke, gauging the boy's reaction to his touch. Luke smiled shyly at Michael and the blue-haired boy let his hand fully rest of Luke's thigh.

Luke let him keep it there for as long as he wanted.

-

Luke soon fell into a routine. He would wake up, (skip breakfast), get ready for class, and walk to campus with Ashton. (Ashton had class five days a week and he constantly complained about how he got stuck with such a shitty schedule.)

When he was with Ashton on campus, he would avoid Michael. He didn't want Ashton and Michael to ever come in contact with each other (Ashton was still too fragile after what happened at the art show), which is why Luke found himself going through such great lengths to keep the two apart.

But sometimes, and more often than Luke would like to admit, he found himself lying to Ashton. He would tell his curly-haired friend that he wanted to listen to some lectures for other classes that he wasn't currently taking. Ashton would look at him funny, as if he knew Luke was lying, but Luke would always respond with something about making the most of his time on campus because “you never know when someone might find out that I'm not a real student here and I want to learn as much as I can before that happens.” It was bullshit, he knew that, and he was pretty sure Ashton knew that too, but the older boy would just shrug his shoulders and wander off to the art building to paint while Luke rushed into the library to meet up with Michael.

-

“What the hell is so funny?” Michael yelled through his laughter. He was glaring at Luke who was almost doubled over from laughing too hard.

“There's _no way in hell_ that Russell Crowe would ever have sex with you,” Luke snorted.

He didn't even remember how they started talking about this in the first place. All he knows is that Michael didn't judge him for saying that he thought Hugh Jackman was attractive and Luke felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He didn't have to lie about his sexuality to Michael and now the two of them were talking about famous actors that they would both like to spend a night with.

“Why the fuck wouldn't he?” Michael seemed offended by the fact that someone wouldn't have sex with him.

“I don't know, maybe because he's _straight_ ,” Luke replied.

“What's that got to do with anything? Hugh Jackman is straight too, but you just said you'd ride him off into the sunset,” Michael laughed.

I did _not_ say that!” Luke blushed furiously. “I just said he was hot. That was it.”

“Wow, you're such a little virgin, Luke. You can't even talk about sex without getting all blushy and weird,” Michael teased.

“Shut up,” was Luke’s amazing comeback.

The two fell silent after that. Luke picked at bun of the cheeseburger Michael bought for him. He kept thinking about the way Michael's thigh kept brushing against his because somehow they ended up sitting so close that they were almost on top of each other. He also kept thinking of how good it felt to be with Michael. When Michael wasn't being a dick, he was actually extremely funny and contrary to popular belief, Michael was _nice_. He was especially nice to Luke for some reason and the blond wondered why that was. He didn't dwell on that thought for too long; he couldn't because soon he was distracted by the way Michael would lick his lips while he talked. _Oh shit_ , Luke thought, _when did he start talking again?_

Michael bumped his shoulder into Luke's gently, aware of the fact that he didn't have Luke’s full attention. “What ya thinking about?”

Luke just smiled and ducked his head and if Michael saw the blush that took over his cheeks, he didn't say anything about it. Luke was grateful for that.

-

“Stop studying,” Calum whined and threw a handful of popcorn at Luke. “This is supposed to be our bro's night.”

“Give me ten minutes,” Luke replied.

“No,” Calum groaned, drawing out the word. “I'm putting the movie on now and you're going to watch it with me whether you like it or not.”

“Fine,” Luke sighed, standing up from the kitchen table and making his way over to where Calum was sitting on the couch. He could never find it in himself to deny his older friend.

“What are we watching?” Luke asked, shoving his hand into the popcorn bowl on Calum's lap.

“Mean Girls 2,” Calum said. Luke snorted.

“What?” Calum asked, clearly offended. “We've seen the first one a thousand times.”

“Yeah, that's because the first one is _good_.”

“The second one is good too,” Calum argued back.

“Like it could ever live up to the cinematic masterpiece that the first one is,” Luke responded.

Calum slouched down further into the couch, defeated. “Send him off to college and suddenly he's an expert on everything,” Calum grumbled to himself. Luke laughed at his sore loser of a best friend.

-

“Hey, Calum?” Luke asked about halfway through the movie.

“Yeah, Lukey?”

“How did you know you liked Ashton?” Luke questioned, eyes still glued to the television screen.

“I dunno.”

“Wow, thanks a lot,” Luke sighed.

“You know I don't like talking about feelings,” Calum mumbled.

“I'm not asking you to write wedding vows for the guy. I just want to know how you knew you liked him,” Luke snapped.

“Someone's sassy tonight. What's gotten into you?” Calum asked, finally looking at Luke.

Luke remained quiet and blushed slightly, continuing to not make eye contact.

“Or should I ask _who's_ gotten into you?” Calum asked, sitting up straighter against the couch and leaning closer to Luke.

“Shut up,” Luke replied, not able to keep his cheeks from darkening further. That seems to be his go-to response lately.

“Lukey's got a crush!” Calum cooed and pinched at Luke's cheeks.

“Stop that,” Luke complained and pushed Calum away.

“Tell me who it is,” Calum demanded.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“ _No_.”

“Fine. I guess we have to do this the hard way.” Calum put down the popcorn bowl and jumped on top of Luke.

“Calum, stop!” Luke cried out between his laughter.

Calum was lying directly on top of Luke, tickling his sides. The younger boy thrashed around underneath him, trying to throw his friend off and cease the attack on his over sensitive skin.

“ _Please_ ,” Calum begged, “you haven't had a crush in ages.”

Calum was right. After Jacob, Luke's first and only boyfriend, Luke cut himself off emotionally. He didn't allow himself to form attachments to anyone other than Calum, but as time wore on, there was a large part of Luke that missed the intimacy of a non-platonic relationship. Try as he might to push those feelings away and into the dark recesses of his mind, he can't help but feel those awful butterflies in his stomach whenever he thinks about a certain spoiled rich boy.

Realizing that Calum was still waiting for an answer, Luke simply said, “you don't know him.”

“Does he go to school with you?” Calum asked.

Luke paused, not knowing whether or not he was giving away too much information, but he paused for too long and Calum answered for him.

“So he _does_ go to school with you. Do you have any classes together?”

“No,” Luke sighed. He didn't want to tell Calum that he potentially had a crush Michael Clifford, the rich kid with a bad attitude who made Ashton question his entire existence, but he also figured there was no use in avoiding any other questions his older friend might have. Calum was persuasive and Luke knew that he would find out sooner or later.

“How'd you two meet?”

Luke winced at Calum’s question. He couldn't say, _“I met him at the art gallery when he made your soon-to-be-boyfriend cry,”_ so he settled for, “we ran into each other at the library.” Luke left out the part about how Michael apparently stalked him there.

“That's cute,” Calum hummed. “I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Luke mumbled, pressing his face into the warm skin of Calum's neck.

“I'll kill him if he hurts you, though,” Calum whispered and Luke smiled.

They fell into an easy silence after that and spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch together. Luke couldn't help but think about how thankful he was to have Calum in his life.

-

Ashton started joining Luke more and more whenever they were supposed to be on campus instead of having sex all day with Calum. Apparently, Calum had taken one too many “sick” days and got in trouble with his boss. Ashton was also falling behind in some of his classes. He also had another art exhibit he was supposed to be preparing pieces for, but he had been too distracted to work on it. So the lovebirds decided that it would be best if they actually got their lazy, horny asses out of bed and went to work and to class like they were supposed to. Luke thought that was the best decision they made since they started dating. (Really, who has that much sex, anyway?)

Luke appreciated Ashton's company, but he felt somewhat uneasy every time he caught sight of the dark love bites that littered his tan skin. The absence of marks on his own skin served as a reminder for how lonely Luke had been feeling lately and how badly he wanted to feel a certain blue-haired boy's lips on his skin.

“Hello, twinkle-dumb and twinkle-dumber,” Michael said as he took a seat at the table where Ashton and Luke were currently eating lunch (well, Ashton was the only one eating, something that did not go unnoticed by Michael).

Ashton stiffened in his seat. Michael noticed and reached over to pat the other boy on the back. “Hey, Ashy, it’s good to see ya again,” Michael smiled. He could be so cocky sometimes and Luke wanted to punch him.

“What are you doing here?” Ashton asked, tone razor sharp.

“Bite me, Irwin. I'm here for Luke.”

“Why?” Ashton asked.

“Because we're friends? Get with the program, Irwin,” Michael shot back.

“Since when are you friends with this asshole?” Ashton questioned, pointing an accusatory finger at Michael and turning to Luke.

“I…uh…” Luke stuttered.

“Luke would never be friends with a dick like you,” Ashton interrupted him.

“Oh, please,” Michael rolled his eyes, not even the slightest bit insulted, “we've hung out every day since I took him to the hospital.”

 “Wait, _Michael_ was the one who took you to the hospital?” Ashton asked incredulously.

Luke just sat there and stared blankly at his friends. Maybe if he looked innocent, he wouldn't get in too much trouble.

“You didn't tell anyone about how I saved your life?” Michael also asked, a slight pout on his lips.

Luke didn't like confrontation and he felt cornered at this particular moment.

“Uh, yes…and no,” Luke said, answering both of their questions at once. Both boys looked shocked for different reasons.

“Why did you let Michael take you to the hospital?” Ashton asked at the same time Michael said, “Do you really hate me that much that you didn’t even tell your friends that I helped you?”

Luke sighed and rubbed at his temple. He tried to keep Ashton and Michael apart so he could avoid situations like this. In his mind, _Luke, Calum, and Ashton_ and _Luke and Michael_ existed in two completely separate worlds. He thought it was best if they didn’t overlap. Judging by the glares on the two other boy's faces, he was right.

“Look, Michael _was_ the one to help me after I passed out. I didn't even know what was going on and before I knew it, I was in the back of his car,” Luke explained to Ashton.

Turning to Michael, he said, “And I'm sorry that I didn't tell anyone about you helping me, but I don't hate you. My friends do, which is why I tried to hide it from them, but I don’t.”

Michael and Luke stared at each other from across the table. Ashton looked back and forth between the two boys, trying to figure out what kind of relationship they had. Something in both boys' eyes suggested that they had more than platonic feelings for each other, but Michael's next words contradicted that.

“You're fucking unbelievable, Hemmings. Why do I even waste my time with you?”

“Stop it, Michael,” Luke snapped, finally holding his ground. “You were being so nice the past few days. Why do you have to be such a dick right now? You always do this.”

“Do what?” Michael demanded.

“You always have to fuck everything up!” Luke screamed, attracting the attention of everyone within hearing distance.

“ _Fuck you_ , Hemmings. I _hate_ you,” Michael spat, but his voice shook and Luke knew there was no truth to his words. Luke knew Michael well enough by now to be able to tell that he was only lashing out because he was hurt.

“I'm sorry, okay? I was just trying to save myself from this,” Luke said, gesturing between himself and the two boys in front of him.

“Save it, Hemmings,” Michael said, standing up from the table. He picked up the tray of food he brought with him and Luke noticed that Michael's hands were shaking. Michael looked down at the tray that was wobbling slightly from his unsteady hands, then back up at Luke and for a moment Luke thought that he was about to get a face-full of cafeteria food, but then Michael placed the tray back down on the table and slid it over to Luke. Even though Michael was mad, he wouldn't let Luke go hungry and the blue-eyed boy felt a pang of guilt embed itself in his heart. Luke could have sworn he saw Michael's eyes shining brighter than usual, probably due to the tears he was trying not to shed.

“Michael, I'm sorry,” Luke begged, reaching for the green-eyed boy, but it was too late. Michael was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Luke was the one to hurt Michael this time. That's interesting. We'll talk about why Michael is always so sensitive and needy and over-reactive in the next chapter.  
> I hope you guys still like this fic. Thank you to everyone who takes time out of their day to read what I write. You have no idea how happy it makes me when I see the hit count go up. Special thanks to everyone who comments! Thank you, you beautiful people. I hope you're all having a good day!


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash. This update is way overdue and I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting. I don't even have a good excuse, I was just super lazy this past week. I hope you can forgive me, though.  
> Oh, and reader beware. There's smut ahead.

Luke didn’t know why he felt so guilty. Michael had said plenty of hurtful things to him in the past without even batting an eye, so why did Luke feel the overwhelming need to apologize? There were a lot of things about Michael that Luke didn’t understand and the way that Michael made Luke want to simultaneously punch him and kiss him was at the top of the blond’s _Do Not Comprehend_ list. Luke sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face in resignation. _Fine_. He would apologize to Michael the next time he saw him.

The only problem was that Michael purposefully went out of his way to avoid Luke. It was a little difficult to apologize when the person that Luke was trying to apologize to would not even spare him a glance across the quad. The guilt that Luke had felt in his heart had stretched its weight down into his stomach and settled there like a stone in the water; all other emotions raced around it, were torn apart by it, but the guilt remained strong and incessant. Luke hated it.

The only thing he hated more than the overbearing regret was the way Calum reacted when Ashton spilled the beans about Michael taking Luke to the hospital.

“ _You’ve got to be fucking kidding me_ ,” Calum whisper shouted.

Luke knew Calum was angry when he whispered like that. Calum would shout whenever he was mad, but he would only get all quiet and disbelieving when he was _furious_. Luke just shrugged his shoulders, too tired to care after being on the emotional rollercoaster that was Michael Clifford. He wished he could get off, as if there was some ride operator standing nearby that would be able to press a magic button and eject Luke straight out of his seat and far away from this ride from hell. Sometimes, like right now, Luke really hated Michael.

Unfortunately for Luke, this was real life and there were no neutral bystanders or magic buttons to help him escape the madness his life had become. And Luke knows he’s being overdramatic, okay, he _knows_ , but that doesn’t necessarily mean he cares. He would rather live in his own overdramatic fantasy world then listen to another minute of Calum screaming about what a horrible person Michael Clifford supposedly is. _He doesn’t even know Michael, not the way Luke does_.

But Luke doesn’t say anything. He just takes it on the chin, waits for Calum to finish ranting and raving before he speaks up. “He also paid for the hospital bill. And he’s been buying me lunch every day. And we’ve kind of become friends.” Luke says it all so nonchalantly, like he’s ticking items off a grocery list.

Calum starts fuming again and Luke sits through two more rounds of Calum’s obscene gestures and swearing and _I don’t want to owe anybody anything, especially that prick_. Luke started nodding off at the end of it, which resulted in him getting a pillow to the face and a hoarse, “I’m not through with you yet,” before he was sent to his room like the ten year old Calum still apparently thought Luke was. Luke didn’t mind. He fell face first onto his mattress and passed out immediately. He didn’t even bother to take off his jeans.

-

Luke felt better when he woke up the next morning. Granted, his jeans were scratchy and uncomfortable to sleep in and he may or may not have drooled a small lake into his pillowcase during the night, but he felt _good_. It was the first time since his fight with Michael that he actually felt all right.

Though his mood was dampened by the way Calum scowled at him when Luke walked into the kitchen that morning. Calum was bent over the newspaper, nursing what was probably already his third or fourth cup of coffee. Luke shuffled awkwardly over to the kitchen table and sat down across from him. Calum stared at him over the top of his coffee mug. Luke knew what he was doing. Calum had done this to him plenty of times before. He would stare Luke down relentlessly and wait for the younger boy to crack. Luke always cracked.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to the kitchen table, not brave enough to meet Calum’s eyes.

“We both work too hard to have to _owe_ Michael Clifford anything,” Calum seethed.

It was useless to try to defend Michael so Luke bit his tongue. He felt bad for letting Calum talk down on Michael in such a way. Really, Michael wasn’t so bad. Sure, he was all piss and vinegar, but he wasn’t a bad person. Luke actually enjoyed having him around. He was funny and attractive and surprisingly intuitive, and Luke basked in Michael’s attention like a reptile in the sun. There was also something about Michael made Luke feel _alive_ , which is why he couldn’t stand the thought of Michael never forgiving him. Luke sighed, deciding to first smooth things over with Calum before he would worry about how to handle his situation with Michael.

“I know, Cal. I’m sorry,” Luke said softly.

Calum forgave him.

-

Ashton had offered for Luke to come to the gallery with him and watch him paint. Luke declined, saying that he wanted to get a head start on his Calculus homework. Really, Luke had every intention of actually doing what he told Ashton he was going to do, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten (Michael wasn’t around to buy Luke lunch anymore) and the uncontrollable grumbling of his stomach forced Luke to wander into the cafeteria in search of something to eat. He didn’t have much in his wallet, but he noticed he did have enough to buy an order of cheese fries, so that’s exactly what he did. Feeling unusually brave for a person with a social anxiety disorder, Luke decided to find an empty table inside the mess hall and eat his fries. He only had eaten about three fries when he realized it was a mistake.

A boy sat down at the table across from Luke and flashed the blond an award winning smile as he did so. Luke couldn’t help but notice how attractive the stranger was. He had dark brown hair that was styled in a quiff similar to his own. The boy also had a full beard and bright green eyes. He was well built too and Luke assumed he was on one of the sports teams. Even though the boy in front of him was unlawfully attractive, something felt wrong. He was too short, too buff, too tan. He was everything Michael wasn't and it was _wrong_. Luke felt guilty looking into the stranger's green eyes. They weren't the right shade of green and Luke found he was unable to get lost in them like he would if he was looking into Michael's eyes.

“Hi,” the boy said, snapping Luke out of his thoughts of Michael. The stranger’s voice was deep, but his tone was shy.

“Hey,” Luke responded, trying to subtly wipe at his cheesy fingers with a napkin.

“This may sound weird, but I’ve seen you around and I, uh, think you’re really hot,” the boy said, blushing madly.

Luke was confused, but also fairly impressed at how straightforward the other boy was being. Luke could never have the confidence to walk up to a complete stranger and tell him that he was attractive.

Luke was also extremely skeptical of this stranger. He had suffered through one too many pranks pulled by former classmates to actually believe that this random, extraordinarily attractive boy was actually interested in Luke.

“What?” Luke asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

“You’re, uh, adorable?” The guy tried again, sounding unsure of himself. Luke wanted to correct him because no, Luke _is not_ adorable. He is _manly_. He also couldn’t make himself believe that the gorgeous creature in front of him thought _Luke_ of all people was attractive. This had to be a joke.

“Th-thanks,” Luke stuttered. _God_ why did he have to stutter?

“I’m Kyle,” the other boy said, smiling at Luke kindly.

Luke was about to reply when he felt a hand brushing through his blond quiff. He automatically started to panic, thinking that he should have trusted his gut instinct when it told him that this was a joke, that he should have ran away the moment Kyle sat down across from him, but when he turned, he was met with a sight that made his breath get stuck in his throat.

Michael was standing above Luke, stroking his fingers through the blond’s hair as if he had done it a hundred times before. But there was something about the way Michael was staring, eyes narrowed and scowling at Kyle, that caused Luke's heart rate to drastically increase. Michael’s eyes flickered to Luke’s quickly and Luke tried not to think about how Michael's expression noticeably softened then.

“Hey, babe,” Michael said, bending down a little to kiss Luke on the cheek.

Michael tugged discreetly on Luke’s hair, silently urging the other boy to play along.

“H-hey,” Luke spluttered and Michael leaned down to kiss him again. This kiss was a lot closer to Luke’s mouth than the last one and Luke thought he was about to combust from the feeling of Michael’s lips on his skin.

“Who’s your friend?” Michael asked, glaring daggers at Kyle again.

“Sorry,” Kyle said nervously, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know he had a boyfriend. I mean, I guess I should have assumed ‘cause he’s so…”

“He’s the prettiest boy in the world,” Michael said after Kyle trailed off.

Luke’s heart fluttered when Michael called him pretty, which didn’t make any sense because he was slightly offended by Kyle calling him adorable only a few minutes ago. But this was _Michael_ that said Luke was pretty and Luke wouldn’t argue with that. Michael could probably tell Luke he was as cute as a trashcan and Luke would still take it as a compliment as long as he said it in that soft, fond tone of his that he used whenever he complimented Luke.

Kyle got up awkwardly and made his way back to his friends’ table, hanging his head dejectedly. Luke felt sorry for him, but the feeling didn’t last for long when he noticed that Michael was still playing with his hair.

Luke leaned into the older boy's touch, sighing contentedly and reveling in the attention. All too soon, though, Michael was pulling his hand away from Luke. It looked like he was about to storm off again, but Luke didn’t want him to go without apologizing.

“Wait, Michael,” Luke called, stumbling up from his seat and quickly discarding his leftover fries.

Michael didn’t stop. He just kept walking at a steady pace, avoiding Luke, but not pushing him away. Luke figured that was a good sign. He ended up following Michael across campus until they were both stood in the back of the library. Michael had led them to Luke’s little corner in the back and Luke assumed it was so they could talk in private, seeing how no one ever ventured that far into the library.

Michael spun around quickly, so quickly that it threw Luke off balance. Michael caught Luke before he could topple over and pushed him against the shelves of books. He kept one hand on Luke’s shoulder and another on the bookshelf next to Luke’s head, effectively caging the blond between Michael’s body and the rows of books behind him.

Michael’s eyes were wild, frantic even as he searched Luke’s face. He was breathing heavily and little puffs of air were fanning across Luke’s lips every time the older boy exhaled. Luke realized that Michael was waiting for something, an apology probably.

“Michael, I’m sor-”

Luke was interrupted by Michael’s lips crashing against his own. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being kissed so desperately, as Luke soon found out. Michael wasted no time, parting Luke’s lips with his own and slipping his tongue into the blond boy’s mouth. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Luke eventually threaded them into Michael’s hair, just like the blue-haired boy had done to him earlier. Michael surged forward, pressing their bodies together impossibly closer. One of Michael’s legs ended up in between Luke’s. Michael pushed his thigh against Luke’s crotch and Luke gasped at the friction and tightened his grip in Michael’s hair, accidentally yanking on the blue hair and causing Michael to moan. Luke took a moment to breathe as Michael trailed his lips across Luke’s jaw and down his neck.

“Michael,” Luke breathed. Michael sucked especially hard at Luke’s skin at the sound of Luke sighing his name.

“Michael, I’m sorry,” Luke gasped out.

“For what?” Michael’s lips hummed against Luke’s skin when he spoke.

What _was_ Luke sorry for? He couldn’t remember. The only thing Luke could focus on was the way Michael was expertly sucking at the sensitive skin on his neck.

“Are you sorry for letting Kyle hit on you?” Michael asked, pulling back just enough to look Luke in the eyes.

Kyle? Who’s Kyle? The only name Luke could remember at the moment was _Michael_.

“You should be sorry,” Michael continued, rubbing his thigh roughly into Luke’s crotch. “Would you let him touch you like this?” Michael asked, his voice deeper and more demanding than Luke had ever heard it before.

“N-no,” Luke choked out.

“I bet you would have,” Michael teased. “I saw the way you were looking at him. You were practically gagging for it.”

Luke let out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine at Michael’s words.

“Only y-you,” Luke panted.

Michael quirked an eyebrow suggestively. “Only me?”

“Only want you,” Luke said breathlessly, realizing that If Michael didn’t stop rubbing against him soon he might come in his pants.

“Michael,” Luke whined, drawing out Michael’s name.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Luke,” Michael said before his lips assaulted Luke’s neck again.

Luke was aware of his zipper being pulled down and then, without any warning, Michael’s fingers were pushing through the open zipper and the opening at the front of his boxers, grabbing at Luke’s hard cock and pulling it out through the open zipper. Michael spat into his hand before he tugged from the base of Luke’s cock right up to the tip. Michael’s fingers brushed lightly, teasingly, across the head and the barely-there friction of Michael’s hand was driving Luke insane. He bucked his hips forward into Michael, hoping to create some greater friction against his throbbing cock.

“I’ve wanted to do this since that night in the art gallery,” Michael said, his voice low and slow and driving Luke absolutely insane. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately,” Michael continued. “Been thinking about you looking like this underneath me.”

Michael’s words, seriously affecting Luke, caused the blond boy to moan as his cocked pushed out a bit of pre-come.

“Shhh, baby, we can’t be too loud. We are in a library, after all,” Michael reminded him.

And _shit_ they _were_ in a library. They were doing _this_ in a library. Luke had his dick out in _public_ and he was getting a hand job from the most attractive guy he had ever seen. He had never felt so dirty. He had never felt so _good_.

Luke didn’t know what turned him on more, the fact that Michael was touching him, jerking him roughly and flicking his wrist expertly, or that they were doing _this_ in a public setting. Luke never considered himself to be much of an exhibitionist, but he figured that at this point, _for Michael_ , he’d be anything.

“Shit, Michael,” Luke’s moan was muffled by one of Michael’s hands clasped over his mouth.

It seemed that Michael was having a hard time trying to decide where to look. One minute, he would be watching Luke, observing the way the younger boy was coming undone underneath him. Then, his gaze would wander over Luke’s body, would take in his broad shoulders and his narrow waist before finally settling on his exposed cock, resting thick and heavy in his hand, pink tip shiny with pre-come and slick with spit.

Michael groaned, feeling his own cock twitch at the sight of fucking Luke with his hand. He noticed the way Luke started to slump forward, how Luke’s forehead eventually came to rest on his shoulder, blond hair tickling the skin of his neck. Luke was panting, hot and erratic, the heavy breaths were caught by the material of Michael’s shirt and Michael felt _hot_ all over. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, to his amazement because he hadn’t even touched himself yet.

Luke was whining into Michael’s neck and Michael was relishing in the buzz that went through his veins whenever he heard the younger boy make those sweet, little sounds and choked off moans.

“ _Michael_ ,” Luke breathed, fucking himself into Michael’s fist and chasing his high. He was _so close_. Just a few more thrusts and he’d be coming all over Michael’s fist. But then, right as Luke was about to topple over the edge of oblivion, a woman’s voice drifted through the library, dangerously close to where the two boys stood. Michael ceased his motions immediately, letting go of Luke’s cock. Luke whined, he had be so _close_ and this just _wasn’t_ fair.

Michael pinched Luke’s side, not too hard, but hard enough to warn the other boy to keep quiet. Neither of them wanted to be caught, but Luke realized that if they were, Michael had more to lose.

The woman, who Luke soon realized was the librarian, carried on her business as usual. She was apparently helping a student who was looking for some scholarly journals to use for a research paper. The librarian’s voice got louder until Luke realized she was on the direct opposite side of the bookshelf. The only reason she hadn't seen the two of them yet was because the books were stacked so high, mercifully blocking her view of the other side. Luke looked back at Michael with wide eyes and the older boy, who was either unfazed or was just really good at hiding his emotions, brought one finger against his pursed lips, reminding Luke to keep quiet.

Then, without any warning, Michael took Luke’s cock into his hand again. Luke shook his head viciously at the other boy, silently pleading him not to continue. But Michael, the bastard that he is, just smirked evilly and began pumping Luke’s cock again. His movements were slow, but his grip was strong and his thumb brushed purposefully against a sensitive spot on the underside of the tip. The librarian’s voice still wafted through the back of the library and Luke’s skin startle to prickle with the thought – the _excitement_ – of getting caught.

Michael kept his pace slow and steady, holding Luke’s hips down against the bookshelves with the hand that wasn’t jerking him off. Luke was impatient, he was on edge and Michael’s purposefully languid touches were only serving to kindle the fire currently blazing inside of Luke. That wasn’t enough, though. Luke wanted to _ignite_.

“Michael,” he whispered. “Please,” he was not beyond begging at this point.

Michael just smiled, that same smug smirk that always angered Luke, and whispered, “Just think of this as payback.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in Luke’s gut. Warning signals flashed the word _payback_ behind Luke’s eyelids. The word stuck heavy in his throat, his mouth not willing to repeat it, but in his mind, Luke had already formed his own conclusion: He didn’t mean anything to Michael – _this –_ didn’t mean anything. Michael was just retaliating for their fight the other day, getting Luke all worked up only to hurt him the only way Michael seemed to know how; emotionally.

And even though Luke was suffering from internal turmoil, the librarian’s voice was now somehow closer than before and Michael’s hand was working his cock in that perfectly unhurried way and Luke couldn’t bring himself to back out now. Even though Michael will possibly (probably) hurt him in the end, Luke was only a hormonal teenage, after all, and he wanted this orgasm.

Without him even realizing it, the fire that burned low was now raging inside him, pushing him closer to the edge. The slow build was torturous, he had been balanced precariously on the ledge for so long that when his orgasm hit, it violently tore through his entire body and he pushed forward, only to be caught by Michael.

As Luke came down from his high, he was vaguely aware that the librarian’s voice seemed further away in the distance. That came as both a disappointment and a relief because really, he didn’t want to be caught, but at the same time, he _really_ wanted to be caught. He blamed his confusing thoughts on his post-orgasm muddled brain.

“Luke? Are you with me?” Michael whispered in his ear and Luke was suddenly too aware of the fact that he was still in Michael’s arms, was still indecently exposed, _was only used for payback_.

Righting himself, he pushed Michael away from him and tucked his cock back into his boxers. He avoided looking at Michael, knowing that stupid smirk would still be on display.

“Luke?” Michael tried again, shuffling around so he was standing in front of Luke again, trying to get the other boy’s attention. For a second Luke thought Michael sounded worried, then he realized that that was impossible, seeing as Michael doesn’t care for anyone but himself.

“Luke, can you look at me? Please?” Michael sounded serious, almost crazed as he grabbed for Luke’s chin to try to force him to look at him.

“Don’t touch me,” Luke said, attempting to shake out of Michael’s grip.

“That’s not what you wanted five minutes ago,” was Michael’s smart remark.

Luke turned to glare, blue eyes icy with hatred and an undertone of embarrassment. Michael flinched at the look.

“Okay, shit, wrong thing to say,” Michael spoke, adjusting his jeans around the bulge protruding from the front of his pants. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Did I overstep? I thought you wanted that too…” Michael trailed off, suddenly very unsure of himself and afraid that he made Luke uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I wanted it,” Luke spoke, his voice shrill and barely recognizable to his own ears. “But I wanted it to actually mean something, not just be a part of your revenge plan.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked, eyebrows furrowing and causing a confused little ‘v’ to form between his brows. If Luke wasn’t so mad he would probably think it was endearing.

“You said it was payback! You literally admitted that you only did that to get back at me,” Luke seethed.

“Oh no, Luke, that wasn’t what I meant,” Michael said, recognition washed over his face and his confusion was replaced by something that looked suspiciously like amusement.

“What else could you have meant?” Luke bit back.

“The _edging_ was payback. The hand job, well, I wanted to do that for a really long time,” Michael replied.

“Edging?” Luke asked, confused.

“Do you…? Do you not know what that is?” Michael asked, and yeah, that was definitely amusement that was etched across his face now.

Embarrassed, Luke shook his head.

Michael laughed, “Wow you really are an innocent little virgin, aren’t you?”

At Luke’s death glare, Michael stopped laughing and said, “I would never use you like that. I know I’m a dick, but I would never hurt you like that, I promise.”

“I’ve had plenty of people use me in the past, Michael. People who said they would never hurt me absolutely _destroyed_ me,” Luke crossed his arms over his chest defensively, remembering his parents, his former friends, his classmates and all their cruel words and gestures.

“Luke, I know what it’s like to be used,” Michael said and Luke scoffed at him. “No, I’m serious,” Michael continued. “People only pretend to be my friend because of my status. Guys only want to be with me because of my money. I had one guy who I _really liked_ convince me that he was gay so I would date him. He wasn’t gay, though, he didn’t even _like_ me. I thought I was falling in love with him, but he just used me for my parents’ money. And my parents, I love them, I really do, but sometimes my dad makes me feel like the only reason that I was born was so that I could take over his company. He just needed an heir, Luke, that’s all I am to him.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Luke asked. “You’ve spent all this time guarding yourself from me, putting up walls and acting like an asshole -”

“You don’t want anything to do with me,” Michael interrupted with a smile on his face that confused Luke. “Sometimes I can tell how angry I make you, how much you hate me. And you don’t know how happy that makes me, to know that you can’t stand me.”

“Why would that make you happy?”

“Because that means that you’re not using me. You’re the first person that I’ve let myself have feelings for in a long time and it’s nice to know that you’re genuine.” Michael smiled shyly at Luke as the blond tried to gather his thoughts. There was so much information that Michael just threw at him and Luke didn’t know how to process it all.

“And,” Michael continued before Luke could get too lost in his thoughts, “I don’t want you to think that I’m using you either. I’ve noticed things about you. You hate making eye contact and you hate being in large crowds alone. You’re extremely self-conscious and you flinch whenever someone unknown touches you. I don’t know what happened to you in the past, but I realize that you probably have one hell of a story to tell. I want you to trust me enough to tell me one day.”

Stunned into silence, the only thing Luke could do was nod, silently agreeing to give Michael a chance. And as the other boy stared back at him with a wide, toothy grin stretched across his face, Luke thought that maybe, just maybe, the two of them would be able to write their _own_ story one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that? I feel like it was bad, but I didn't want to keep you waiting anymore.  
> Thanks again to all the readers and commenters! Y'all make my world go round!


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made you wait so long for such a shitty chapter I'm sorry.  
> Also, there's smut ahead. It's towards the end of the chapter, fyi.

Luke tried to fight it, he really did. Because if he was going to do this, then he was going to do it on  _his_  terms. So when Michael asked Luke out on a proper date, Luke insisted that they didn’t go anywhere too fancy. He really didn’t want Michael to take him to a high end restaurant that he couldn’t even afford to  _look_  at, let alone eat at.

But of course, that’s exactly what Michael did.

-

Luke glared at Michael from across the table, but his glare lost its heat when he saw Michael smiling at him, the candle lit in the middle of the table threw light that danced gently across Michael's pale skin.

_Ethereal_. That was the only word that game to mind when Michael looked like this.

Luke cleared his throat and averted his eyes, well aware that he was caught ogling, and let his gaze travel around the restaurant. It was a large restaurant, all dark wood and fancy silverware. The windows were mostly covered with dark red curtains, effectively blocking any outside source of light in order to create “the mood.” There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the restaurant and directly under it, there was a large fountain. Luke wanted to question what kind of restaurant had a running fountain inside of it, but the glow from the chandelier above was reflecting in the water, making it appear as if sunlight was flowing through the fountain and it was so pretty that Luke couldn’t bring himself to comment otherwise.

He took it all in, the atmosphere, the decadence, the boy across from him. Luke watched as Michael read over the menu, tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He seemed to sense Luke was watching him because he lifted his face towards Luke, smiling shyly as he reached across the table to hold Luke’s hand.

“Have you decided what you want to order?” Michael asked him.

“Um, yeah,” Luke lied. He stared down at the menu for several seconds before he realized that everything was written in French. _Luke didn't read French_. He started to panic, heart beating faster, insecurities seeping through his pores at the thought of Michael learning just how oblivious Luke was to the world outside of Australia. Luke didn’t want to mess up his first date with Michael. He didn’t want Michael to think that he was uncultured or uneducated, so he decided that he would just randomly pick something from the menu when the waiter came around again.

Several moments of idle talk passed by, mostly Michael just asking Luke trivial things about his life, before the waiter returned to take their orders. Michael looked at Luke expectantly and gestured for him to order first.

“Uh, I will have the…boudin noir,” Luke said, choosing it mostly because it was the only dish on the menu that he could easily pronounce, and even then he still didn’t know if he pronounced it correctly, but the waiter nodded and wrote down his order so Luke assumed he didn’t muck it up too much.

After both boys had ordered and the waiter had left once again, Michael quirked a pierced brow at Luke.  “So, boudin noir, huh?”

Luke shrugged, trying to be nonchalant (trying to make it seem like he knew what he was talking about) as he nodded his head.

“You know what that is?” Michael asked.

It took all of Luke’s self control to force back the flush that was threatening to bloom on his cheeks. “Of course. That’s why I ordered it,” Luke tried to respond coolly.

“Okay,” Michael laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was just asking because I didn’t peg you for the blood sausage kind of guy. I figured you’d go with something a little more normal,” Michael explained.

Luke tried to not let his face show the horror he was feeling inside at the mention of _blood sausage_ , but he schooled his features and smiled politely back at Michael. He tried to ignore the way Michael was looking at Luke as if he knew something the younger boy didn’t, almost like Michael was better than him. Luke settled for reaching for Michael’s hand again, trying to fight back the feeling of unease threatening to take over his stomach.

-

They talked while they waited for their food, mindless chatter about school and friends. In Luke’s opinion, the evening was going fairly well until Michael asked Luke about his family.

“So what about your parents?” Michael asked, sipping slowly at his wine.

Luke swallowed past the lump in his throat. He could no longer blame the blood sausage that he forced down for his queasy stomach. This was the one topic of conversation Luke was hoping to avoid and even though he knew Michael would bring it up (because this is all part of the “getting to know you process”), Luke was still taken aback when Michael had asked.

“What about them?” Luke asked defensively, forcing down another morsel of sausage with a large sip of wine.

“What are they like?” Michael asked.

“They’re, uh, you know…parents,” Luke supplied lamely. “What about you?” Luke asked quickly, desperate to steer the conversation off of him and his estranged family. Michael could tell that Luke was hiding something from him, but (mercifully) he didn’t pry any further.

“There’s not much to tell,” Michael replied. “I was born here in Sydney, but I haven’t always lived here. It’s just me, mum, and dad. My dad’s work always forced us to travel. I lived in Paris for about seven years. Then we lived in Milan and then Tokyo before we moved to Los Angeles. We didn’t stay very long in any of those places. We moved back here about six years ago.”

Luke couldn’t help the awe (and the jealousy) he felt when Michael recounted all the places he had been. Luke had always dreamed about leaving Australia. During his younger years, Luke often thought of Australia as a prison, the one thing holding him back from recognizing his true potential. Now Luke recognizes Australia as his forever home, whether he likes it or not.

“Why’d you come back?” Luke asked.

Michael shrugged. “We’ve got family here. Mum also thought it would do me some good.”

“Why’s that?”

“I kind of lost myself in LA,” Michael said, staring pensively down at the table.

Before Luke could question any further, the waiter came back to refill their wine glasses and Luke tried to figure out just how much of himself Michael had actually lost and if he ever got any of it back.

-

The rest of the date went smoothly. They made small talk about their families some more (Michael did most of the talking) and talked about their friends (Luke talked a  _lot_  about Calum and he could see Michael becoming more and more jealous of his older friend, especially when he told Michael that they've lived together for the last several years).

It wasn’t until they had asked for the check did things begin to take a turn for the worst. When the waiter returned and placed the bill in the center of the table, Michael looked to Luke expectantly. Luke shifted awkwardly under Michael’s gaze, realizing that the other boy was looking to him to pay the check.

“Uh, I got it…?” Luke said, the lilt in his voice making it more of a question.

Michael just smiled as he watched Luke flounder for a second. Luke had no idea how to pay for a meal this extravagant and maybe it was his own, selfish ways, but he assumed (quite stupidly, apparently) that Michael would pay for him. Luke had about ten dollars to his name at the moment and he didn’t know how to tell Michael. He didn’t want to disappoint the other boy so he reached towards the check with slightly trembling hands.

“Relax, Luke,” Michael laughed as he snatched the check away from him. “I was joking. I’m  _obviously_  paying.”

Luke’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean you’re ‘ _obviously_ ’ paying?”

“I’m not gonna have you pay,” Michael said, thumbing through the money in his wallet.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Michael paused to look up at him, “you’re in no position to do so.”

Luke leaned back against his seat, arms crossed over his chest. Michael’s words hit a nerve. Just because Luke was poor, didn’t mean that he was helpless. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can.”

The way Michael said it sounded so  _patronizing_  and Luke was about two seconds away from storming out of the restaurant.

“Can I at least contribute towards the tip?” Luke asked.

“Nope,” Michael said, throwing some money down on the table before standing up and waiting for Luke to do the same.

Luke waited outside the restaurant while Michael paid. Before he had left, Michael had struck up a conversation with a couple of waiters. He was speaking completely in French and Luke felt his insides burning.

All night there had been a voice nagging at Luke saying _Michael is too good for you_. He didn’t understand why Michael wanted  _him_  of all people and as the night wore on, Luke’s insecurities got the better of him. By the time Michael had come out of the restaurant, Luke had decided that he would put an end to whatever their relationship was before it could go any further, before anyone could get hurt.

“Hey,” Michael smiled, placing his hand on the small of Luke’s back as they walked.

Michael looked worried when Luke didn’t reply and asked, “Are you okay?”

Luke sighed. “Michael, I don’t think this will work out.”

“Why not?” Michael asked, hurt overcoming his expression.

“We’re just completely different people,” Luke said, choosing to stare off into the night air rather than see the broken expression etched into Michael’s face.

“So you want to call it off after only one date?”

Luke looked at him sheepishly, but nodded nonetheless.

“No. I won’t let you,” Michael replied, voice louder now that he was angry and carrying through the night.

“You won’t let me?” Luke bit back. “Just like you wouldn’t let me pay for the check?”

“What the – what does that have anything to do with this?” Michael shouted.

“Am I just a charity case to you?” Luke asked. He didn’t give Michael a chance to respond before he continued, “Why me? Did you have a group of poor assholes lined up that you picked me from or did you just randomly decide to take pity on me?”

“What the  _fuck_  are you talking about? I told you why I like you.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make any sense,” Luke said, pulling away from Michael and continuing to walk to his car. “You’re super rich and extremely attractive and you speak  _French_  for fucks sake! And I’m just poor, little Luke who just ate congealed blood because I was trying to impress you.”

Michael started laughing and Luke’s jaw dropped open. “What the hell is so funny?”

“I knew you wouldn’t want to eat the sausage if you actually knew what it was,” Michael laughed and Luke hit him in the chest. “Hey, cut that out! I promise I’ll help you order next time.”

“There’s not going to be a next time, Michael,” Luke sighed.

“Look, I don’t know where you got this crazy idea that I’m only going out with you because I feel bad for you, but you need to stop thinking like that because I really like you,” Michael said, stepping closer to where Luke was leaning against the side of Michael’s car.

Luke didn’t respond. He stared defiantly at a street lamp in the car park and pretended to be interested by all the bugs that were dancing around it, drawn to its light.

"You're not a charity case, I swear. I didn't want you to pay for the check because  _I_ was the one who asked you out. You shouldn't have to pay for something that was my idea," Michael explained. _  
_

"But you made me think that you expected me to pay," Luke sulked.

"I'm sorry, I was just playing. It was supposed to be a joke," Michael said.

"But I don't have the kind of money that you do Michael and you made me feel like  _I_ was the joke," Luke frowned.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I promise I would never laugh at you," Michael apologized.

Luke continued to stare wordlessly over Michael's head, refusing to make eye contact. (Luke wasn't mad anymore, though, he just wanted to see Michael squirm.)

"You don't believe me?" Michael asked.

Luke shook his head, not anticipating Michael's response.

“Well then let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I like you,” Michael breathed, hot and heavy against Luke’s ear.

And really, Luke isn’t a “sex on the first date kind of guy,” but Michael was kissing that tender spot on his neck and his thumbs were rubbing circles into his hip bones and Luke wasn’t about to say no.

Luke was vaguely aware of the way one of Michael’s hands left his hips, only to open the door to the backseat of his car and push Luke gently down onto the seat. Michael pulled back for a moment and just looked down at him.

“What?” Luke asked. Seeing Michael smirk like that made him nervous.

“Last time you were in the backseat of my car was when I was taking you to the hospital,” Michael said.

Luke blushed at the memory, thinking of how far they’ve come since that day. Michael climbed on top of him and closed and locked the door behind him, then he looked down at Luke and wet his lips, like a predator observing its prey. Michael swooped down and attached his lips to Luke’s neck, sucking and biting in such a way that would surely leave a bruise. Michael’s hands trailed down Luke’s broad chest, pinching at his nipples through the fabric of his shirt.

“Shit,” Luke mewled as Michael’s hands continued to roam his body, only stopping when they reached the waistline of his pants.

“Don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Luke breathed, watching Michael intently. “I don’t normally have sex on the first date.”

Michael laughed, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated against Luke's. “I know. You’re the kind of guy who gets a hand job in a public library _b_ _efore_ the first date.”

Luke laughed too. “Yeah, well that’s how I determine who to date. If you good with your hands, then you must be good with your mouth.”

Michael snorted. “Sound logic. Glad I passed the test.”

Michael tugged on the bottom of Luke’s shirt and Luke sat up, quickly peeling the material over his head and throwing it carelessly somewhere in the front of Michael’s car. Michael popped the button of Luke’s jeans and slowly brought the zipper down. Luke stopped him only to take off the other boy’s shirt. Luke stared up at Michael as he continued to take off Luke’s jeans. Michael was all alabaster skin and soft, yet defined, edges and Luke fell a little bit in love (and grew a little bit harder) at the sight of his naked torso.

Luke leaned forward to suck a bruise into Michael’s skin, reveling in the fact that he was seeing Michael's bare chest for the first time. He was so pale and pretty that Luke couldn’t resist littering his skin with dark love bites. Michael moaned as Luke licked along the ridges of his collarbone and when Luke pulled back, a pretty pink flush had started to work its way down Michael’s chest and Luke could only marvel at how beautiful the other boy was.

_Ethereal_. That word kept coming back to Luke whenever he thought of Michael.

Before Luke could think any more about how lovely Michael was, the blue-haired boy leaned down to mouth at Luke’s cock through his boxers. Luke moaned, encouraging Michael to continue as he slowly removed Luke’s boxers.

“Your legs go on for miles,” Michael said, slightly in awe as he dragged Luke’s boxers down his legs.

Before Luke could respond, Michael’s mouth was sucking at the insides of his thighs, creating a path of love bites from Luke’s knees up to his groin on each leg. Just when Luke was about to protest against all of Michael’s teasing, Michael’s tongue licked at Luke’s balls. The sensation stole the words right off the tip of Luke's tongue and replaced them with a moan of Michael's name instead. Luke jerked at the sudden contact and Michael brought his hands up to hold Luke’s hips down to the seat. Michael’s tongue licked languidly at Luke’s balls, sucking one partly into his mouth before moving over to tease the other.

“Michael,” Luke breathed, unable to concentrate long enough to say anything other than Michael’s name.

Michael didn’t waste any time after that. He took hold of Luke’s cock with one hand and brought his mouth to the tip. He licked softly, teasingly, at the head for a moment before harshly sucking the first few inches into his mouth. Michael’s mouth was warm and wet and it was so much better than anything Luke could have imagined. His mouth was so tight around Luke and the blond had a hard time trying to not thrust upwards into Michael’s mouth. One of Michael’s hands came up to pinch at Luke’s nipples and Luke felt himself inching closer to the edge with every passing second.

The sensation was overwhelming and a familiar burn blazed hotly in his lower abdomen. This was unlike the last time when Luke and Michael were in the library. That was slow, torturously and purposefully slow, whereas this was fast and reckless. Michael took Luke's cock so far into his mouth that Luke could feel himself against the back of Michael's throat. Michael continued to bob his head and work his hands quickly over Luke's shaft and just as Michael was so far down that his nose was nestled in Luke's dark blond pubic hair, Luke felt Michael begin to rut against one of Luke's legs that was between the older boy's thighs. Michael's thrusts were desperate and each one brought Luke impossibly further down his throat. When Michael swallowed around Luke, throat squeezing around Luke's cock in such a dizzying way, Luke felt his balls tighten with his impending orgasm.

"Michael, I..." Luke's warning trailed off as he threaded his finger through Michael's hair and yanked harshly on his blue locks. Michael groaned around Luke and the resulting vibrations was enough to send Luke toppling over the edge.

Michael swallowed Luke's come effortlessly and continued to suck on Luke's cock long after it grew soft. Eventually, Luke squirmed and pushed him away because he was too sensitive. It wasn't until moments after Luke's orgasm did he realize that Michael had stopped rutting against his leg.

“You made me come in my pants,” Michael laughed. “Like a fucking fourteen year old.”

“Sorry,” Luke mumbled, too breathless and tired to feel embarrassed.

They laid like that for a while, Luke sprawled out on the backseat with Michael lying on top of him, both boys breathing heavily, trying to catch their breaths. Michael's head was buried in the crook of Luke's neck, blue hair tickling Luke's chin and come drying in his boxers. After several moments, Michael lifted his head up to look at Luke, taking in his half-lidded eyes and soft features. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that fall asleep right after they come.”

Luke smiled lazily. “Maybe.”

Michael breathed out a laugh and sat up against the back of the seat. His hands caressed Luke’s thighs as he spoke. “Let’s get you home then, princess.”

“’M not a princess,” Luke tried to argue, but exhaustion was settling over him quickly.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Michael responded, pressing feather light kisses all over Luke’s face.

-

The drive back to Luke’s apartment was quiet. The two boys sat in a peaceful silence, holding hands over the center console and concentrating on the city swirling by in a blur around them. Luke watched the lights fade in and out of his vision and he felt almost  _invincible_. For the first time in a long time, Luke felt like he could call Sydney his home, like he could take on the whole world if someone asked him to, especially if that someone was Michael Clifford.

He listened to the sound of Michael breathing, slow and steady as he observed the road ahead of him. Luke wondered what Michael saw whenever he looked out on Sydney. Whenever Luke saw the city like this, he was overcome with a strange sense of nostalgia. The rush of night air was enough to clear the cobwebs away from memories Luke considered to be untouchable. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same for Michael, if there were any parts of Michael's past that he kept swept away under the proverbial rug of his mind.

Soon, too soon, Michael was parked in front of Luke’s rundown apartment building. They were parked under a streetlamp and the light shone virtuously down on Michael, casting long shadows over his face that contrasted with the ever present glint in his eyes.

Luke leaned across the console and kissed Michael softly and slowly, savoring the taste of the other boy and drawing out the night for a few more precious moments. When Michael pulled back, lips kiss bitten and shining in the lamp light, Luke couldn’t help but think of that word again.

_Ethereal_.

And maybe Luke should have been scared, scared of how quickly he was falling for Michael, scared of Calum questioning his swollen lips and the love bites that marred his skin, scared of the inevitable heartbreak Michael will cause him, but in that moment, Luke continued to feel  _invincible_.

And for the first and possibly the last time in his life, Luke felt a little bit in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that wasn't as bad as it could have been! I originally planned on having the date go poorly, like to the point where they didn't want to speak to each other again, but I figured I would give you guys one nice chapter like this before I inevitably rip your hearts out in the future.  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story! My heart sings whenever I see I have more kudos and comments. Some of your comments leave me blushing like a schoolgirl who just talked to her crush for the first time! Thank you as always! And remember that you can always find me on tumblr and we can be best friends and cry over muke together!


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's almost been two weeks. I would ask you to forgive me, but this chapter is trash and you'll probably hate me even more.

Luke woke up with a warm body pressed against his back. As memories from his and Michael’s date the night before sifted through his still sleep muddled brain, Luke thought for a moment that he was still with Michael. He pushed back against the solid chest behind him, content in thinking that he was cuddling with Michael, but when he opened his eyes to look at the arm draped over his waist, he noticed tan, tattoo ridden skin and frowned.

“Morning, Luke,” Calum’s voice sounded from behind him, sounding uncharacteristically serious and lacking the deep, husky quality of Calum’s sleepy voice and Luke figured that Calum had been awake for quite a while already.

Lifted shifted around on the bed so he was lying on his back while Calum propped himself up on one elbow, looking down on Luke and immediately making the blond boy nervous. The older boy observed Luke with sharp eyes, studying the expression on Luke’s face and taking in the frown that had settled on Luke’s lips when he remembered that Michael did not come into the apartment with him last night so it couldn’t have been the blue-haired boy who he was cuddling with.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Calum said, still eyeing Luke’s turned down mouth. “Were you expecting someone else?” Calum reached up to poke at a tender spot on Luke’s neck and Luke’s frown deepened.

“What do you mean?” Luke asked, his memories still too swathed in a sleep induced haze to remember why the skin of his neck was sore.

“Well,” Calum said slowly, as if he was weighing each word on the tip of his tongue, “these marks didn’t get here by themselves.”

Calum’s eyes were dark, boring into Luke’s eyes as he gauged his friend’s reaction. Luke’s eyes widened comically as he slapped a hand over the love bites on his neck, foolishly trying to cover them even though Calum had obviously already seen them.

“I…fuck,” Luke stammered, well aware that he was caught.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Calum asked in that dreadfully calm tone of his that let Luke know he was a moment away from losing it.

“Uh…” Luke paused, trying to figure out just how much he should actually tell his older friend when something else occurred to him and he dropped all pretenses to ask, “Shouldn’t you be happy for me?”

“What’s there to be happy about?” Calum asked.

Luke’s jaw dropped open and for a moment, stunned by his friend’s callousness, but he regained his composure enough to say, “I finally found someone that I like and you’re acting like I committed a crime.”

“It’s not that I’m not happy for you,” Calum said slowly, carefully choosing his words. “I just wish you would have told me first.”

“Why do you have to know every little detail of my life?” Luke snapped.

“Because I’m trying to look out for you,” Calum replied, his temper quickly flaring.

"What's the point of telling you who he is if you don't even know him?" Luke asked.

"I want to make sure he's good for you," Calum responded.

“Why do I need you to approve who I date? You’re not my mom,” Luke shouted, throwing the blankets towards the end of the bed as he stood up.

“No, you’re right. I’m _better_ than your mom because I actually give a shit about you!”

“I never asked for this, though. I never asked you to be an overbearing, overprotective maniac. I would’ve stayed with my parents if I wanted that,” Luke yelled.

“But you did ask for this. The day you showed up at my door all bloody and crying, you asked for this,” Calum responded.

“But I never asked to stay here. You took me in and told me to stay.”

“Well, I’m fucking _sorry_ for wanting to take care of you, for wanting to put a roof over your head and give you a safe place to live. Maybe I was the one who told you to stay, but _you_ were the one who refused to leave. When you first got here all you did was eat my food and sleep in my bed and let me pay the bills all by myself while you were wallowing in your self-fucking-pity. But I put up with it because I _love you_ , so when you come sneaking back into the apartment at asscrack o’clock in the morning with fucking hickies all over your neck, I feel like you’re throwing everything right back in my face,” Calum ranted.

“What. The. Fuck. Calum,” Luke seethed through gritted teeth. “You make it sound like I took advantage of you. How _dare_ you say that I wallowed in self-pity. I was fucking abused by my fucking father and kicked out of my own house by my mom. Sorry for needing time to recover from that! But I didn’t just laze around in the apartment while you worked your ass off. I got a job at the diner as soon as I could. I took whatever shift they would give me and now I’m working the fucking night shift and fucking passing out because I’m overworking myself, but we need to pay the bills somehow so you know I’m not gonna quit. I was going to tell you about this guy eventually,” Luke yelled, pointing to the love bites on his neck, “but then you had to go and be all weird about it! Did you ever think that maybe this was a huge fucking step for me too? To trust someone enough to let him take me out and kiss me like this? I’m scarred for life after what my father did to me and I hate my sexuality because of it. I fucking hate being gay because it only gets you hurt, _physically hurt_ , by the people you love most, but I like this guy enough to put all my fears aside and give it a try. You can’t rush me into these things, Calum. I’m not ready.”

Luke and Calum stared at each in silence. Neither boy said anything, but they were both still quietly fuming. Luke wanted Calum to understand, but he also knew that there was no way the dark-haired boy could appreciate what Luke had gone through in the past. Calum had always been comfortable with his sexuality and he exuded enough confidence that no one ever tried to belittle him. Luke, on the other hand, seemed to go through life with a large target on his back. He was constantly picked on and harassed and he had always been either too weak or too scared to defend himself. And that’s something that Calum could never understand.

Calum will never know what it feels like to have your own parents tell you that your attraction to the same sex is “just a phase.”

Calum will never know what it feels like to see your first boyfriend run out of your house crying, trying to get away from your parents as they yell slurs and expletives at the innocent boy.

Calum will never know what it feels like to have your parents look at you with so much hatred and disgust written across their faces as his own father’s fist connected with his mouth.

Calum will never know what it feels like to have nowhere to go, no one to turn to, no one you could trust with your secrets so you were forced to bottle everything up and have your mind become your own personal hell.

And Luke doesn’t want Calum to know what any of those things feel like. All Luke wants is for Calum to attempt to understand that Luke had been hurt one too many times in the past, had his ego damaged by his sexuality far too often to proudly come out of the closet again and announce to the world that he was gay.

Calum needed to understand that he was a part of the world that Luke was trying to protect himself from, but the look on the other boy’s face told Luke that Calum would never see Luke’s pain, would never try to understand it. And Luke loved Calum, he really did, but he had to admit that the dark-haired boy was too blinded by his own wants and needs to see how fragile Luke still was, even after all this time.

He needed Calum, but Calum couldn’t – wouldn’t – help him right now. He was too offended by Luke keeping secrets from his to realize how hurt the blue-eyed boy was.

But the hurt was soon overcome by anger, furious, red-hot _rage_ , and eventually, Luke got dressed and left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him without saying goodbye.

-

The phone rang three times before Michael picked up.

“Hello?” Michael asked, still groggy with sleep.

“Hey,” Luke said, his voice breaking.

Michael pulled his phone a few inches away from his ear so he could squint at the screen.

“Luke?” He asked after a moment.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me. Sorry, did I wake you up?” Luke asked, biting at his lip ring nervously.

“No,” Michael lied, even though he had, in fact, been asleep only moments ago. “No, I’m awake. What’s up?”

Luke was silent on the other end, trying to control his breathing so he didn’t start sobbing to Michael through the phone.

“Luke?” Michael asked again. He thought he heard Luke whimper on the other end and he bolted upright in bed. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I…” Luke trailed off, voice thick with unshed tears.

“Want me to come get you?” Michael suggested.

Luke didn’t answer, he just nodded his head, well aware of the fact that Michael couldn’t actually see him, but Michael seemed to understand.

“Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“Uh…” Luke looked around, not entirely certain of his surroundings. “I crossed the train tracks a few minutes ago? There was an Italian restaurant that I passed too, but I think it was closed.”

Luke thought he heard Michael mutter “ _christ_ " before he said, “Why are you in such a bad part of the city?”

Luke stopped walking and looked around. “I don’t know. I just needed to get out. I guess I just kept walking.” His voice sounded small, even to his own ears.

“Shit, don’t go any further alright? I’m coming to get you,” Michael sounded stressed and Luke felt bad because it was his fault that Michael was worried. Michael was just another person to be added to the list of people Luke had upset. He clearly couldn’t do anything right.

“I’m sorry,” Luke whispered.

“No, baby, you have nothing to apologize for, okay? I’m coming for you, just hold on.”

-

It was twenty-five minutes later before Michael found Luke sitting on a sidewalk. The blond boy was sitting all by himself, his legs pulled tight against his chest almost protectively as he glared down at the sidewalk. Even from this distance, Michael could see that Luke was furious.

“Luke?”

Luke looked up when he heard his name called and saw Michael’s car pull up along the sidewalk.

“Get in,” Michael said, looking worried as Luke pushed himself up off the ground.

Luke sighed and got into the car, slamming the door of Michael’s car a little harder than he intended to and wincing at the sound. They drove in silence with Luke’s anger rolling off of him in waves and charging the air to create a thick, crackling tension.

Michael drove back to his house. His parents weren’t home so he assumed it was a safe place for Luke to vent without anyone eavesdropping.

“You live in a fucking mansion,” was the first thing Luke had said since he got into Michael’s car.

“Yeah, I guess,” Michael replied, punching in the three-digit security code for the gate and waiting a moment for the gate to slide open before pulling his car through.

“You guess? This place is bigger than my entire fucking apartment building,” Luke said with his nose almost pressed against the car’s tinted black window as he looked at Michael’s house in awe.

“You’re being extra sassy today, aren’t you?” Michael teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m pissed,” Luke replied, voice so monotone and cold, so uncharacteristically Luke, that it made Michael nervous.

“Okay, well, how about we go inside?” Michael suggested, shutting off the engine and getting out of the car.

“Are you parents home?” Luke asked.

“Not today. Dad’s got some big fundraiser event in the States.”

“What about maids? Housekeepers? Servants?” Luke asked.

“House-elves, maybe? Although we gave Dobby a sock, so he’s a free elf now. Dobby deserved it,” Michael joked, nodding his head seriously and laughing a little at his own joke, but Luke didn’t laugh. He just continued to stare silently towards the house.

Michael sighed. “The cleaning staff isn’t in today. I didn’t want them interrupting my sleep so I gave them the day off.”

“So we have the mansion to ourselves?” Luke asked.

“We have the _house_ to ourselves,” Michael corrected.

"There's no one here to interrupt us?"

"Interrupt what?" Michael asked and Luke just smiled dryly.

-

Michael was on top of Luke with two, lube-slick fingers in the blond boy’s hole. Luke was writhing against the sheets of Michael’s bed, making some of the most obscene noises the blue-haired boy had ever heard. Michael was quickly pumping his fingers in and out of Luke and the younger boy was bucking his hips in time with them, forcing the other boy’s fingers in deeper with every thrust. The pressure was beginning to build in Luke’s lower abdomen and he brought one, shaking hand up to create some sort of friction on his neglected cock, but Michael slapped it away.

“No touching,” Michael ordered and Luke whined. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed that he couldn’t touch his cock, or if he was turned on by Michael’s dominance.

“Michael,” Luke moaned as Michael’s fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot inside Luke’s hole. Luke clenched down hard around Michael’s fingers as the older boy rubbed persistently over that spot.

“ _Michael, Michael, Michael_ ,” Luke chanted like it was the only word he could remember.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Michael said, slipping in a third finger.

Luke’s back arched off the bed at the added pressure, pushing himself impossibly closer to the older boy. After what seemed like hours of torture, Michael finally, _finally_ , wrapped a hand around Luke’s cock. His hand was still, just squeezing lightly at the tip, but the sensation was still enough to make Luke gasp and clench around Michael’s fingers once again.

“Mike, I need…I need,” Luke cut himself off with a moan as Michael thumbed along the sensitive slit of his cock.

“What do you need, baby?” Michael asked, his voice deeper than Luke had ever heard it before, which only served to further turn him on.

“F-fuck! Make me come. Please, Michael, make me come,” Luke pleaded, eyes wide and desperate as if he was afraid Michael would suddenly abandon him and leave him to finish on his own, knowing that it wouldn’t be nearly as good with just his own hand.

“Of course, Lukey. Anything for you,” Michael said sweetly before asking, “Do you think you could do another?”

Luke groaned and nodded his head in response. He actually wasn't sure if he could take another one of Michael's fingers in his ass, but he was more than willing to try. He felt the familiar, sweet burn of his hole being stretched open as Michael added a fourth finger. This was the most Luke had ever been stretched and it felt _so good_.

Michael, still working his fingers in and out of Luke, adjusted his position so he could lean over Luke in such a way that their lubed up cocks perfectly aligned. Michael braced himself with one of his arms by Luke’s head as he began to rut against the younger boy, forcing their cocks to slide together and create a delicious friction that had the two boys mewling. Michael leaned down to kiss Luke, biting on the younger boy’s bottom lip and sucking his lip ring into his mouth. Luke’s answering moan was just as sweet as the feeling of their two cocks grinding against each other.

Michael’s fingers were nailing Luke’s prostate each time the blue-haired boy thrusted them into him and that, coupled with the feeling of their cocks rubbing together, was enough to bring Luke quickly to his climax.

It hit him unexpectedly, unlike the other times with Michael where Luke was painfully aware of the slow fire of his impending orgasm licking at his veins, this orgasm rocked through him devastatingly fast. Without warning, Luke shuttered and convulsed against Michael’s body and his hole clenched violently around the other boy’s fingers. The feeling of Luke’s hole tightening around his fingers made Michael's imagination run wild with how it would feel if Luke's ass was squeezing that tightly around Michael's cock and that thought alone was enough to make Michael come mere moments later.

Michael rolled off Luke and laid next to him in bed. Both boys were staring at the ceiling of Michael’s bedroom, panting heavily and trying to catch their breaths before Luke asked, “Why do you have a chandelier in your room?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” Michael laughed breathlessly.

“Yes, Michael, because normal, everyday people have chandeliers in their _bedroom_ ,” Luke teased.

“But it’s not a big one, though.”

“Are you seriously trying to justify having a chandelier in your room?” Luke asked.

“Shut up, Luke.”

Luke laughed and it was silent for a beat before Michael spoke again.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah, I just…I got in a fight with Calum before and I was really annoyed. I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke sighed.

“You don’t have to,” Michael assured. “Just as long as you’re okay.”

And Luke wasn’t okay. He didn’t think he ever would be, not after everything that had happened in his past. With a sickening feeling in his gut Luke realized that Michael probably wouldn’t be able to understand either. If Calum, his best friend in the world, the one person who was there with him through it all, didn’t comprehend why Luke was so afraid of being in a relationship again, then how was Michael supposed to understand?

A part of Luke wanted to think that Michael was different, that Luke’s apprehension about being in an openly gay relationship would somehow make sense and Michael would be okay with hiding their relationship for a while.

Luke’s biggest fear was that Michael wouldn’t be able to understand and he would ruin this before they even really had the chance to get started.

-

Michael let Luke chose what he wanted to do for their impromptu second date. He decided to go for the simple, yet classic, dinner and a movie and when both boys complained about having to get out of bed, Luke ordered some pizza instead.

Four slices of pizza and one orgasm later, (Michael decided that giving Luke a blow job while he was eating pizza would be a good idea) (Luke would have to agree) Luke was being handed the keys to Michael’s porsche.

“I can’t drive your car,” Luke protested.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a fucking _p_ _orsche_ , Michael! What if something happens to it?”

“Then I’ll get another one,” Michael shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

And it probably wasn’t a huge deal for him. Michael was so rich that he could have anything he could ever want, no matter the cost.

“Really, Luke, it’s okay,” Michael assured and Luke took the keys from him with slightly shaky hands.

-

Luke drove slowly, slower than the predetermined speed limit, afraid that he would somehow damage Michael’s car, but Michael’s didn’t say anything, he just smiled fondly and tried not to laugh when the drivers behind Luke honked their horns. Luke tried to pout at the irritated drivers, but he ended up laughing instead.

They got to the movie theater with just enough time to buy their tickets and some popcorn. They snuck into the back of the theater just as the lights went off and the movie began playing. In Luke’s opinion, it was a perfect date. Michael insisted on giving ridiculous commentary throughout the movie, which made Luke laugh so hard he had to stifle his giggle by pressing his face into the crook of Michael’s neck and that was totally _not_ an attempt to get closer to the blue-haired boy. The two boys eventually ended up holding hands against the armrest, their fingers slightly greasy from the popcorn they had both eaten but neither boy cared. It was perfect.

Much too soon, the movie ended and Michael was driving Luke back to his apartment. Much like their first date, they held hands over the center counsel during the ride back. Michael turned on the radio and Luke nodded along silently to the classic rock station they were listening to.

“Are you going to be okay?” Michael asked, glancing at Luke briefly before focusing his attention back on the road.

“Yeah, I…” Luke sighed, “I need you to try to understand what I'm about to tell you, okay?”

“Sure,” Michael said, nodding in agreement even though he seemed worried about what Luke was going to say.

“I don’t want to tell Calum about you yet. About us, or whatever this is. I’ll tell him eventually, but now’s not the time. And I don’t want you to be offended because I’m not trying to hide you from anyone. It’s just that this is my first relationship, if this even is a relationship, that I’ve had in a _really_ long time and I’m still trying to figure myself out.”

Michael was silent for a while, mulling over Luke’s words before he finally spoke. “What's there to figure out?”

“I…I’ve only had one boyfriend before. We didn’t date very long and it didn’t end well. I guess I just need to figure out the type of person I am when I’m with you,” Luke confessed, leaving out all the gory details of how his first relationship really ended.

“You shouldn’t be anyone but yourself whenever you’re with me. I’m not asking you to change,” Michael replied, his tone seemed sharper than before, but maybe Luke was just imagining it.

“I know you’re not and that's not what I meant. You have to understand that I…” Luke trailed off, not entirely sure about how much he wanted to tell Michael about his past and how it bred all of his current insecurities.

“Understand what?” Michael asked, parking his car in front of Luke’s apartment building.

“I’m broken, Michael,” Luke said in a small voice. “I’m not used to going on dates, or having sex, or even being out of the closet. You have to understand that something happened to me when I was younger and because of it, I can’t just _be_ myself. I’ve been taught that being yourself is wrong, especially if you’re gay,” Luke whispered, voice thick with tears. “So you have to give me some time to get used to this because right now, every instinct in my body is telling me that I’m going to get hurt by being with you, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be. I promise I’ll tell everyone in the world about you as soon as I can figure out how to be okay with this, how to be okay with being out when everyone will know what I am. That is, if you actually want me, which I’m not completely sure about because for all I know I could be rushing into this or making more out of it than it actually is. I just don’t want to pressure you into anything and I need you to also not pressure me…” Luke stopped talking before he gave anything else away.

“You talk about being gay like it’s a bad thing,” Michael said, sounding vaguely offended. “We all have our issues, Luke, but you shouldn’t have to hide who you are.”

Luke shook his head and wiped at his eyes. “You don’t get it, Michael. You didn’t go through what I did.”

Michael looked like he wanted to argue, he opened his mouth to say something, but closed it a second later. Michael looked away, watching silently as the first of the rain drops fell from the sky and gathered on the windshield of his car.

“I guess I’ll just go,” Luke muttered when the silence stretched on for so long and it became apparent that Michael wasn’t going to say anything else.

Luke walked away from the car slowly, secretly wishing that Michael would chase after him and they could talk things out, smooth things over so Luke wouldn’t feel like an utter failure when he laid in bed at night.

But Michael never came after him. Michael silently drove away and Luke turned around in time to watch the black porsche be swallowed by the night. Luke couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he shuffled up to his apartment.

Inside the apartment, all the lights were out and Calum’s bedroom door was shut, which meant that he was clearly avoiding Luke. With an aching heart, Luke got himself ready for bed, cursing his knack for making everyone he cares about angry with him. Luke went to bed that night feeling empty and wondering why he had to be so broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I want to thank those of you who read this fic. It means the world to me that you take the time out of your day to read what I write! Thanks for reading, liking, and commenting!


	9. nine

Calum was already gone by the time Luke woke up. By sheer willpower, Luke was somehow strong enough to pull himself out of bed and stumble into the kitchen. As he did so, he grabbed the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape while he went to pour himself a cup of coffee. He paused, reaching halfway for his coffee mug, arm dangling lamely in the air when he noticed a sticky note attached to his cup.

_Luke –_

_We need to talk._

Luke sighed and peeled the note off his mug. He sat down at the kitchen table with Calum’s note in one hand and his coffee in the other. He pinched the corners of the paper together mindlessly as he sipped on his coffee.

He thought about the day before, his fight with Calum and his date with Michael, which had been great until Luke had to ruin it at the end. Now, he didn’t know where he and Michael stood, if they were in an actual relationship and Michael was his boyfriend, or if Luke had forced the inevitable end of their relationship to come much sooner than either boy had expected.

Luke slumped back against the kitchen chair; the chair’s uneven legs caused him to rock backwards and almost lose his grip on his coffee. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he fished his phone out of the pocket of his pajama pants. Flipping the phone open, he noticed he had one missed call from an unknown number, probably somebody just trying to sell him something that they think he needs, like a magic sponge or some laundry detergent. He scoffed, thinking that what he really needs is to not be such a burden all the time.

All this thinking is giving him a headache.

Luke doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s scrolling through his contacts, Michael’s name illuminated on the small screen of his prehistoric, but affordable, flip phone. He hesitated for a moment before aggressively pressing the call button, telling himself that it was now or never and breathing deeply as he pressed the phone to his ear. The phone rang four times before going straight to Michael’s voicemail and Luke hung up before he was given the option of leaving one.

He sipped at his coffee some more as he stared at his phone, hoping that Michael would see he had missed a call and would call Luke back (really, Luke was just too much of a coward to call a second time). Twelve minutes went by and Michael didn’t call back. Luke told himself that it was okay, tried to rationalize it by coming up with excuses that maybe Michael was still asleep, or his phone was dead, or he was in class and couldn’t answer.

That last thought caused Luke to look up at the wall clock hanging above the stove in the kitchen. He realized that his English class was supposed to start in three minutes. He just shrugged his shoulders and laughed dryly about nothing in particular (okay, he was laughing at his shitty life) before he shoved away from the kitchen table. He left his coffee and his note in the kitchen, not bothering to clean out his half empty coffee cup, acknowledging the fact that the contents of the mug will grow colder and more bitter with time.

He hugged his blanket tighter around himself as he shuffled back to his bedroom. One last look at the clock confirmed that Luke’s English class had definitely started already and he should be there. He’s missing a very important lecture on John Milton’s _Paradise Lost_.

Instead, he climbed into bed and let sleep numb his mind.

-

Luke woke with a start, hyper aware of the fact that there was someone else in the apartment with him. He was just about to get out of bed and investigate when a tall, strong figure appeared in his doorway covered in paint.

“Hey,” Ashton said quietly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, Ash,” Luke replied, sagging down into his bed once again and wondering how Ashton could have gotten into his apartment. Calum probably gave him a key.

“You didn’t go to class today.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Ashton asked.

“I’m not feeling too good,” Luke replied, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Ashton cocked his head to the side, eyeing Luke carefully before speaking again. “What’s wrong?”

“Just didn’t feel like getting out of bed today,” Luke shrugged.

“And does that have anything to do with the fight you and Cal had?” Ashton asked.

“Yes and no,” Luke replied honestly, figuring there was no point in lying to Ashton. (In all honesty, Luke was more upset about the fact that he probably ruined whatever good thing he and Michael had going on.)

“Okay,” Ashton sighed, recognizing that Luke was keeping something from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” Luke asked, not sure if Ashton was referring to his feud with Calum or the part about Michael that Luke wasn’t telling him.

“Anything. Just get it off your chest,” Ashton said.

Ashton waited a moment, hovering in the doorway to Luke’s room while Luke picked at a lose thread on his blanket.

“Okay,” Luke conceded, “we can talk about stuff.”

Taking this as permission to fully enter the room, Ashton went and sat on the edge of Luke’s bed. It was quiet for a moment before Luke realized that Ashton was waiting for him to start talking. He took another minute to think through exactly what he was going to say to Ashton, trying to figure out how much the other boy already knew and whether or not he should tell him about Michael.

“Calum’s mad at me,” Luke decided to start with. “But you already knew that. He’s mad because I went on a date without telling him who I was going on a date with.”

Ashton just nodded his head, urging Luke to continue. Luke took a chance to glance at Ashton’s face and, mercifully, the curly-haired boy’s expression was quite neutral. Luke was happy about that. He didn’t want anyone taking sides. That would eventually cause a fight and Luke didn’t want to be the reason for a rift in Calum’s and Ashton’s relationship.

“But the thing is,” Luke continued, “is that I wasn’t ready to tell anyone, including Calum. A lot happened to me when I was younger and I’m afraid of being in a relationship. I’m afraid of coming out and letting everyone know that I’m gay.”

Ashton hummed sympathetically, as if he could possibly relate to whatever Luke had previously gone through.

“So I wanted to give myself some time to get used to it, y’know? I wanted to sort some personal things out before I told anyone, but now there’s nothing to tell because the one person I let myself fall for in _years_ wouldn’t even try to understand why I needed some time. So now I have no one. Calum’s mad at me. The guy I was seeing is mad at me. You’re probably mad at me for some reason. Everyone’s mad at me and you all have every right to be. I always do this. I always mess everything up. I’m such a fuck up…” Luke trailed off when he felt hot tears start to collect in his eyes and he looked away from Ashton, desperately trying to stop the tears from falling.

“No, you’re not,” Ashton was quick to assure him, moving closer to where Luke was on the bed so he could wrap the younger boy in a hug. “You’re a lot of things, Luke, but you’re not a fuck up.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” Luke sniffled. “Before I started living with Calum, I was with my family and I was _h-happy_ ,” his tongue tripped over the last word.

“You’re right, I don’t know what happened, but I do know that whatever did happen does _not_ define you as a person. By holding onto the past, you’re only bringing yourself down. How do you expect to move forward when you’re constantly in your own way?” Ashton asked.

Luke felt his lungs burning with the overwhelming desire to be genuinely loved as Ashton’s words crashed against the inside of his skull.

 _You’re constantly in your own way_.

Luke repeated that phrase over and over to himself until he could see the words lit up in neon behind his closed eyelids. The worst part of what Ashton had said was not the words themselves, but the fact that he was right in saying that Luke had been holding himself back all these years. He slumped against Ashton, feeling the fight drain out of him, only to be replaced with endless exhaustion.

Luke soaked in the other boy’s body heat, letting the warmth spread through him and attempt to thaw his heart. He let Ashton whisper in his ear, murmuring words of encouragement in a feeble attempt to lift Luke’s broken spirit. Luke was vaguely aware of the fact that this should be Michael’s job, that Michael should be the one to comfort him when his mood and self-esteem dip so low, but then he remembered that Michael was part of the reason why he was upset in the first place and he focused on synching his erratic breathing with Ashton’s much slower breaths instead.

Luke wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but what felt like only moments later, Luke heard the front door opening and closing and the distinct sound of Calum toeing off his shoes in the entryway. Luke cringed as Calum’s footsteps sounded down the hall, each step causing Luke to lean further into Ashton’s embrace. Ashton hugged him tighter against his paint-splattered shirt and ran his fingers through Luke’s blond locks soothingly.

It was dark in the apartment now, neither Luke nor Ashton could have been bothered to turn any lights on earlier, but Luke could still make out the oil stains on Calum’s white undershirt from where he stood in the doorway. Calum stood in silence, taking in the scene before him with his arms crossed over his chest, just like his boyfriend had stood earlier in the day. Luke almost cracked a smile at his small recognition that Calum and Ashton were seemingly perfect for each other - from the way that they each carried themselves to the way that their clothes were covered in substances unique to their respectable jobs - they were almost one in the same and Luke wanted to joke about how eerily similar they acted sometimes. Instead, he turned his face into Ashton’s shirt and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey, babe,” Ashton said, his soft voice cutting through the silence.

“Hi,” Calum replied just as quietly. “What’s going on?”

“Luke and I were just talking,” Ashton replied, giving Luke’s shoulder a small squeeze.

Ashton reached over to finally turn on the lamp that was on Luke’s bedside table and with the room now illuminated, Luke made eye contact with Calum for the first time since their fight.

Calum stared at Luke, taking in the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and the red splotches that appeared on his face and neck whenever he was upset. Calum sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat as he realized he couldn’t stay mad at the one person who needed him most.

“It’s okay, Lukey,” Calum said, approaching the bed slowly like he would a frightened animal.

“No, it’s not,” Luke choked out as fresh tears started to fall. “I messed everything up,” Luke sobbed, burying his face in the comforting expanse of Ashton’s toned chest.

Above him, Calum and Ashton shared a knowing look and Ashton just shook his head sadly at his younger friend’s misfortune.

“Hey, Lukey, look at me,” Calum pleaded, taking a spot on the bed next to the other two boys and gently placing a hand on Luke’s back, slowly massaging the tension out of Luke's shoulders. Several more minutes passed before Calum was able to coax Luke into facing him. When Luke finally turned towards him, Calum felt his heart break for the younger boy. Luke’s normally cobalt blue eyes were dark and swimming with emotion, akin to the stormy seas that witness the ruin of boats and sailors alike.

“I’m sorry,” Luke sobbed, reaching out for Calum while still clinging to Ashton, as if both boys were his only life source.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Calum soothed, pressing a kiss into Luke’s blond hair. “I’m sorry I overreacted. You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready to.”

Luke shook his head. “There’s nothing to tell,” he sniffed, wiping at his runny nose with the back of his hand. “I ruined it before we could even put a label on it.”

“Maybe he’s not worth it then,” Ashton murmured. “He’s not good enough for you if he called it off without even trying to understand why you need to take things slow.”

“It’s not his fault,” Luke said, shaking his head again. “It’s mine. I should have expected him to react like that. He has some anger issues.”

Luke felt Calum noticeably stiffen beside him so he quickly added, “He’s not abusive or anything. Honestly, he treats me really well. He’s just used to always getting everything he wants and I have nothing to give him,” Luke said sadly.

“You’re so wonderful, Luke. You’re _so_ special. And if he can’t see that, then that’s his problem, not yours,” Calum said and Luke could tell that he was gritting his teeth together in an attempt to not curse out the boy who was breaking Luke’s heart.

“Yeah, okay,” Luke complied, not really believing the dark-haired boy’s words, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore. He hated confrontation, tried to avoid it whenever it was possible and the past couple days proved to be too much for Luke. He felt the exhaustion from earlier settle into his bones once again, weighing down his heavy heart and anchoring him to the bed. As his eyelids slipped shut for the second time that day, he felt a weight lifted off his chest. Calum was not mad at him anymore, the two of them would be okay. They would be _Luke and Calum_ like they always have been, like they always will be. But Luke still counted that as only a small victory. While _Luke and Calum_ was great, it was familiar and it was home, what he really wanted was _Luke and Michael_ and acknowledging the fact that that might never happen was too much for Luke's poor, aching head to think about. Luke allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness again, comforted by the fact that this time he wasn’t alone. He had his two best friends on either side of him, keeping him grounded and allowing him to rest easy for once.

But even though he felt content, he didn’t feel happy. He blamed that on the absence of a certain green-eyed boy.

-

The next few days passed by surprisingly quickly. Luke would have breakfast in the morning with Calum before they would go their separate ways, each wishing the other a good day as Luke headed towards the college and Calum left for the automobile shop he worked at. Then, Luke would either sit outside in the hall and listen to the latest lecture, or he would find Ashton and spend time with him in the art building. Once classes were over, Luke would make his way over to the diner where he would work the grueling night shift that he loves to hate so much.

He purposefully kept himself busy. He tried to preoccupy his mind with school and work, leaving no room to think about how Michael has apparently disappeared off the face of the Earth and how he hasn’t answered any of Luke’s calls.

Luke was disappointed (and slightly offended) by the fact that Michael hadn’t even texted him. After the first phone call, Luke was too nervous to call Michael again. He didn’t want to appear needy or clingy and scare the other boy off, but after his talk with Calum and Ashton, Luke decided to stop being in his own way. So he plucked up the courage to call Michael again, but his call went straight to voicemail. Luke called two more times before finally leaving his own voicemail, asking Michael for a chance to let him explain himself. Even though Michael could be impossibly hard-headed and stubbornly ignorant, Luke still felt that what he had with Michael was something _real_. He hadn’t ever felt that way before and he’d be damned if he let it die so easily.

But Michael was nowhere to be seen on campus and after several days of radio silence, Luke stopped checking his phone every ten minutes in hopes that Michael had finally messaged him. He was disappointed every time he saw he had no new messages and no missed calls. As his disappointment grew, so did Calum's and Ashton's concern. While Luke appreciated the fact that his friends were worried about him, he didn’t tell them that rich, arrogant, and apparently heartless Michael Clifford was the boy he was pining over. He kept the information to a minimum, only telling his two friends enough to appease them, but never giving any clues as to who the boy in question was.

Once Luke stopped impatiently hovering around his phone, he became rather productive. He studied his English notes in an attempt to get caught up with the book they were currently reading in that class. (He had to go to the school’s library to check out a copy and he held his breath the entire time he was in there, purposely avoiding the spot in the back where Michael made him come.)

He also wrote a paper for his Art History course. Any time his thoughts began to drift towards Michael, Luke would hunker down and write several more pages. Writing the paper had served to be such a good distraction that he ended up writing twenty-three pages worth of information and semi-intelligent thought (or as intelligent as one can be when you're trying to desperately distract yourself from the cloying ache of your shattered heart. And no, Luke wasn't being dramatic). When he asked Ashton to read it for him, the curly-haired boy gave him the grade of an A (when Luke asked why Ashton didn’t give him and A+, Ashton simply stated that, as a fake professor, he can’t show biased to his fake students).

All in all, Luke was doing a fairly decent job of not thinking about Michael, but then one morning at breakfast, Calum asked, “You’re friends with that Clifford guy, right?”

Luke may or may not have choked on his cereal. “We’re not exactly _friends_ …” Luke trailed off, leaving out the part about how Luke didn’t know _what_ he and Michael were and that the reason he had been so upset was because he was trying to get in touch with Michael so they could figure it out.

“Well, he’s in the paper,” Calum said, reaching across the small kitchen table to drop the newspaper next to Luke’s cereal bowl.

Luke didn’t want to know why Michael was in the paper. He didn’t want to read whatever was written about Michael in the black newsprint, but Calum was looking at him expectantly and Luke had to physically force himself to glance down at the page.

Luke didn’t know what he was expecting to see - maybe something about how the Cliffords made another wealthy donation to some school or charity, or maybe even something about how Michael would inevitably follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the company one day - what Luke didn’t expect to see was a picture of Michael grinding on some guy in a club in Italy.

The picture was obviously taken inside the club because it was dark and grainy, but Luke could still tell it was Michael. Even with the low quality of the photo, Luke could make out the tattoos on Michael’s arm. In the picture, Michael was apparently dancing behind a boy who was slightly shorter than him. Michael's hair was wild, sticking up in all directions except for his fringe in the front, which was matted to his forehead with sweat. Michael’s chest was pressed against the boy’s back, his tattooed arm wrapped around the other boy's waist while the stranger’s head was thrown back against Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s face was pressed against the other’s neck and their bodies were slightly bent at an angel that suggested they were grinding against each other. The caption above the picture read **‘MILLIONAIRE HEARTTHROB GAY?’**

Luke felt sick. There were so many things that he didn't know and his head was swimming with endless possibilities.

Luke didn’t know that Michael was in Italy or why he was even there. He didn't even have the courtesy to tell Luke he would be gone for a while. Michael never said anything about needing to leave the country, which lead Luke to believe that Michael had taken an impromptu vacation. Had Luke really upset him so much that Michael had to fly to a different _continent_ and hook up with a random guy in a night club? If so, that was low on Michael's part. Luke never thought of Michael as the type of guy to run from his problems. Michael always seemed so strong and sure of himself and Luke was genuinely surprised that Michael had just up and left without even so much as a goodbye.

Luke didn’t know who the guy in the picture was. For all Luke knows, Michael could have had a secret Italian lover that he never cared to mention. Luke wondered what the guy looked like, if he was anything like Luke or if this Italian club-goer was more of Michael’s type.

Luke didn’t know that Michael was considered a ‘heartthrob’ like the newspaper said he was. Luke knew that Michael and his family was rich, obviously, but he didn’t know they were celebrities, or at least considered to be famous enough to make headlines. For some reason, the fact that Michael's actions were deemed worthy enough to be written about in a newspaper made Luke's stomach tighten uncomfortably.

The only thing Luke _did_ know was why Michael wouldn’t answer his phone. He was apparently too busy with his Italian fling to notice, or even care, that Luke was trying to contact him. All this time Luke had been trying to make an effort, desperately waiting for Michael to return his calls so they could talk things out, figure out where each of them stood and then try again. But now that Luke knows what Michael had really been up to, Luke just feels like a fool. He’s embarrassed for wasting his time pining over Michael. Luke is learning now that Michael is the type of person to take, and take, and _take_ until there is nothing left, only to move on, leaving you high and dry with nothing but a hollow hole in your chest where your heart used to be. Michael is the type of person who was so easy to fall in love with, with his fancy dates and flashy cars and those sinfully red lips of his that could sweet talk you into doing anything. He knew how to play the game, probably learned at a very young age that his confidence and smooth voice could get him anything he wanted. He probably didn’t have to work very hard for it either. He was probably showered with attention since the moment he was born.

And just like that, Luke felt all the progress that they made, that Luke  _thought_ they had made, retrogress, bringing him right back to square one. Staring down at the black and white picture of Michael in the newspaper, Luke felt something inside of him snap, like a dam finally being broken, and he felt nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred for Michael Clifford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to take a quick moment and thank everyone who reads this story. It's still crazy to me that people read (and hopefully enjoy) what I write. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I know that I can take a while to update sometimes, but it's because I work really hard on these chapters, trying to make the story seem realistic and to do a good job writing it. So thank you again! I appreciate my readers SO much and I really wanted you all to know that.


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.  
> Could be considered triggering, I think.

Luke’s long, lanky body was never meant to be a vessel for such rage. Luke was all soft curves and pliable, noodle-like limbs, but recently the set of his jaw and the draw of his brow caused him to look sharp and angular. He waited for the rage to subside, like it normally would in the past. Admittedly, Luke wasn’t much of a fighter and to stay angry for an extended period of time was never his forte, but there was just something about Michael, about what Michael _did_ , that made the anger stew inside of Luke, thick and demanding, and who was Luke to ignore it?

The next time Luke saw him, Michael’s hair was dyed black and he had a cigarette caught between his lips. Michael was pacing back and forth, wearing a path into the grass of the quad with his cell phone flush against his ear. He seemed angry, yelling at whoever he was on the phone with and sucking anxiously on his cigarette whenever he wasn't talking. People seemed to be watching him with mixed expressions. Some seemed to be almost amused by his nervous gate and stressed tone of voice; others looked at him almost as if he were the plague.

The picture of Michael grinding against the boy in the Italian club had spread like wildfire. Luke overheard people on campus talking about "that Clifford boy." There was a large group of people who either didn't mind, didn't care, or had already assumed that Michael was gay. This group gave Luke hope for himself in the future. If he ever wanted to come out again, it was nice to know that some of the people he went to school with would be okay with his sexuality. Although, this was only one group of people. Others weren't so kind. Luke assumed there would always be people like his parents, people who didn't understand and didn't  _want_ to understand. There were always people who blindly and fervidly hated anyone or anything that was different.

And it was obvious in the way that people stared at Michael. Just by looking at the expressions his fellow classmates wore on their faces, Luke could tell who was unperturbed and who was personally offended by the fact Michael was gay. As he was scanning the group of students collected on the quad, Luke's gaze landed on a red-haired girl glaring daggers into Michael's profile. She was scowling, shaking her head back and forth in a way that could only be interpreted as disgusted and disapproving. She must have felt someone watching her because she looked away for a moment to make eye contact with Luke. Luke felt compelled to look away, except something in the girl's eyes rooted him in place. She must have taken notice of Luke's own scowl that had unconsciously made its way onto his face when he first saw Michael and she smirked dryly as she shrugged, still shaking her head. Luke recognized the gesture, he knew what she was wordlessly trying to convey. It was a way of saying " _isn't this guy a piece of shit_ _?_ " and " _poor us for having a gay person on our campus_."

Luke's stomach churned sourly. He left before the nameless red-head could make any more assumptions (and before Michael could see him). _  
_

-

As the days went on, Luke stayed true to his new tradition of ignoring Michael. Not only was he successful at ignoring Michael on campus, but Luke also prided himself on the fact that he did not cave and answer any one of Michael’s multiple texts. Luke may have occasionally read what Michael would text him, things about how he was _sorry_ and he wanted to _understand_ and how he wanted Luke to give him a chance to _explain_.

Luke laughed bitterly. Michael never gave him the chance to explain himself and he felt it was only right to return the favor. Michael called, too. He called numerous times and each time, Luke let the call go straight to voicemail. Hopefully Michael now understands how it feels to have so many things to say and not get the chance to say them. Serves him right.

Luke made it three full days before their no talking streak came to an end. He was sitting outside his psychology class, straining to hear the lecture that the professor was giving. The door was closed and it was hard for Luke to make out the subject of the lecture, something about classical and operant conditioning and whether we, as humans, really have _free will_ or if we are just being unknowingly manipulated by the media. Luke was taking notes carefully, writing down “RATS” in big capital letters because that’s one of the only words he was able to make out through the thick wood of the classroom's door. He figured that the professor was talking about some sort of experiment and he decided he’d Google it later.

About halfway through the lecture, the professor fortunately stood closer to the door and Luke was able to hear enough to jot down important notes about positive and negative reinforcement when he felt a body slide down the wall and settle into the space directly next to him, so close that their shoulders were brushing. Luke sighed when he recognized the smell of Michael’s expensive cologne. He should have known the other boy would find a way to talk to him eventually. Michael could be annoyingly persistent. On a good day, Luke thinks it’s one of Michael’s most endearing qualities, but today he finds it infuriating.

Michael cleared his throat awkwardly before he spoke. “Hey.”

Luke ignored him.

The silence stretched on for another moment before Michael asked, “Can you please look at me?”

Instead of doing what Michael wanted, Luke focused on pulling out the little pieces of paper that got stuck in the notebook’s binding whenever he ripped a page out.

“Luke, seriously. We need to talk,” Michael tried again.

“We needed to talk several days ago, Michael,” Luke sighed, exasperated. “And I tried to call you, but you never picked up. The time for talking is over. Now, I want to move on.”

“Are you serious?” Michael asked, wide eyed and indignant. “You’re going to call it off just like that?”

“Are  _you_ serious? I thought you liked me. I thought you wanted this to work, but I guess I was wrong.”

“You're not wrong - ”

“Save it for your Italian boy toy,” Luke huffed. “Unlike him, I'm not going to put up with your shit.”

“I can't fucking believe you right now,” Michael seethed.

“I’m not the one who did anything wrong so stop making me out to be the bad guy!” Luke snapped, gathering his things and standing up abruptly. He was prepared to take off down the hall when Michael’s hand wrapped around one of his wrists.

“No, stay, please. I want to talk.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Michael, but you’re not going to get it. Let me go.”

“Luke - ”

“No!” Luke yelled, attracting the attention of the psychology professor. He continued his lecture as he and several of his students peered curiously through the little glass window on the door.

Luke stepped closer to Michael, so close their chests were touching and said, “You fucked up, Michael. You know you did, which is the only reason why you’re here. You’re not sorry for what you did. You’re only sorry because you got caught and I don’t want to listen to your meaningless apologies. I wanted to work things out, to explain myself, but you didn’t even give me the chance. You were too busy partying in Italy to even answer your damn phone. So no, I don’t want to hear it and I won’t forgive you. Now leave me the hell alone.”

Michael at least at the dignity to look heartbroken as he watched Luke walk away from him.

-

Luke was laying in bed, trying to catch up on a few, precious hours of sleep before he had to leave to work his night shift at Mo’s Diner. Just as he was sinking into the final throws of unconsciousness, his phone produced an obnoxious buzzing sound from where it was placed on the bedside table. Luke sighed, forcing his limbs into action as he stretched for his phone. Michael had texted him _again_ and Luke was so tempted to ignore it. He was halfway to throwing his phone out his bedroom window when he gave in and read Michael’s message.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 5:19 pm**

_I know youre mad at me and im sorry but I need your help_

Luke stared down at his phone screen, thumbing over the keypad absentmindedly as he debated whether or not to reply. Before he could decide what to do, two more texts came through from Michael.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 5:20 pm**

_idk how to deal with this_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 5:20 pm**

_its too much_

Luke bit his lip as he read the messages. Michael sounded like he was in trouble, like he was scared and needed help, but for some reason, Luke couldn’t bring himself to respond.

He felt guilty. When he was upset after his fight with Calum, Michael came rushing to Luke’s aid like the knight in shining armor Luke thought he was at the time. But that was also during a time when Luke and Michael were on better terms. They were going on dates and exchanging orgasms. They were _happy_.

Things were different now, though. Luke and Michael stood on uneven ground, neither sure of what the other’s next move would be. Luke thought he had Michael all figured out, but he never could have anticipated that Michael would run away at the first sign of a problem. They messed up because they _were_ messed up. Both boys carried heavy baggage into their relationship and neither trusted nor confided in the other enough to share the weight of their struggles. They let themselves be ground down by the force of their burdens because they feared rejection. They were both so set in their ways, so fixated on their pasts that they didn’t stand a chance of having a future together. And maybe the solution was simple. Maybe all Luke needed to do was respond to Michael’s text, ask him what was wrong and try to kiss it better like Michael had done for him.

Luke didn’t respond to Michael’s text. Instead, he turned his phone off and counted the ceiling tiles in his bedroom.

-

Luke’s shift at the diner was fairly uneventful. He was waiting a table full of college boys. He recognized some of them from campus and he was pretty sure they were all part of one of the fraternities. One of the boys, Evan, was a swimmer with broad shoulders and strong legs. His unruly sandy hair kept falling into his face and he made a point of always thanking Luke louder than the other boys did. Whenever Luke caught his eye, Evan would always send a sweet smile his way and by the time the group left, Evan sent Luke a cheeky wink and left his number on one of the cleaner dinner napkins. Luke blushed a deep scarlet colour and endured several minutes of wolf whistles from some of the kitchen staff.

Seeing Evan’s phone number on the napkin reminded Luke that he had turned his phone off before his shift had started and he knew that Calum was probably worrying now that he hadn't heard from Luke in a few hours. As it grew later and he had less customers to tend to, Luke turned on his phone and sent Calum a quick text to let him know that he was doing alright. He didn’t check his other messages. A quick glance at his screen confirmed that Michael had texted him several times and by the way his phone kept buzzing in his pocket, Luke guessed there were more texts to come.

-

Luke didn’t get home until almost 4 o’clock in the morning. There had been a rowdy crowd of drunk college students that had stumbled into Mo’s at about 2 o’clock. Luke waited patiently as their drunken minds tried to make sense of the words on the menu (one boy asked if Luke was on the menu and Luke’s blush from earlier came back tenfold because that was _two_ guys who had flirted with him in one night and Luke felt a smug sense of satisfaction knowing that Michael would be jealous if he was there), but eventually they all gave up and just asked for some cheeseburgers and fries. Everything was fine until the moment when Luke handed them their check. One of the boys, who Luke assumed was the ringleader of this drunken circus act, looked dumbly between the bill and Luke before he finally stated, “We don’t have any money.”

Luke didn’t know how to respond to that because, honestly, who orders food from a restaurant without having any way to pay for it?

Before Luke’s poor, sleep deprived brain could process the boy’s ridiculous words, the whole group made a mad dash for the door. Luke watched helplessly for a moment before he moved forward, chasing after the boys.

“You have to pay!” Luke shouted, although he doubted they could hear him over their laughing and whooping.

“What you did was illegal,” Luke scolded the night air.

He went back into the restaurant and told the rest of the night staff what had happened. One of the cooks, Ronnie, shook his head fondly as if remembering a time when he wasn’t an old, greasy fry cook in some hole in the wall restaurant. The other cook, Maurice, who Luke liked more than Ronnie, called the police, stating that there had been a dine-and-dash situation.

So Luke was stuck in the restaurant much longer than he needed to be. He was questioned by a frazzled looking police officer, who apologized for being late to show up to the diner (it took him about half an hour to get to the diner, which was odd because the police station was only about seven minutes away). Apparently there had been some kind of accident that required any and all emergency vehicles to show up at the scene.

After Luke was questioned, he filed a police report, stating that the group had committed petty theft and the restaurant would like to be reimbursed for its stolen funds. The police confiscated the diner’s surveillance video and they promised to look into the incident. Luke thanked them and sent them on their way as quickly as he could without appearing rude (because honestly, Luke just wanted to get home and he wouldn’t have even cared that much about this whole situation if it wasn’t going to come out of his paycheck).

But soon enough, Luke was shuffling his way up to his and Calum’s apartment. He was bleary-eyed and had a headache that could have split his skull in two, but he couldn’t help but smile when he entered the apartment and saw Calum curled up on their small couch. When Luke texted him from the diner, he had told the older boy to not stay up for him. Calum sometimes had a bad habit of forcing himself to stay awake until he knew for sure that Luke got home safely and while Luke thought the gesture was insanely sweet, it was also absurd for Calum to do that when he had to wake up early to go to his own job.

Luke took a minute to look at his best friend. He looked so peaceful when he slept, all signs of stress and age faded away and made him look like a careless teenager again. Calum was sleeping naked on the couch, a sight that Luke was used to at this point, with a blanket thrown haphazardly over his body. The television was still on and the luminescent blue light it was throwing casted shadows over Calum’s dark skin.

Luke knew he had to move Calum. He couldn’t let his best friend sleep on a lumpy old couch when he had a perfectly good bed just a few feet down the hall. As carefully as Luke could, he gathered his sleeping friend into his arms and carried him to his room. Luke stumbled a few times, he was too exhausted and too weak to be hauling someone of Calum's size around, but he made an effort to continue walking, knowing that the other boy would do the same for him.

When Luke finally had Calum tucked away in his own bed, Luke planted a kiss on his forehead and turned back towards the living room to turn off the television. Glancing at the T.V., Luke saw that there was a news story about the car accident the police officer had told him about earlier. Luke was in the process of searching for the remote, reaching in between the couch cushions only to unearth some tissues and an old candy wrapper, when he thought he heard one of the news anchors say the name “Clifford.”

Luke whipped around, dropping to his knees in front of the television and manually turning up the sound. There was an aerial view of the crash; the light from the helicopter showcased the black Porsche that Luke had driven not too long ago.

Except this wasn't the Porsche that Luke knew. The Porsche that Luke knew was flashy, attracting the attention of everyone it passed. The Porsche that Luke knew was silent, stealthily passing through the streets of Sydney as it was camouflaged by the night. The Porsche that Luke knew had tinted windows and leather seats and smelled faintly of sex after one of his and Michael's dates.  _That_ was the Porsche that Luke had known and had come to love.

This version of the Porsche, all twisted and mangled with shattered windows and scratches in the black paint, was a version that Luke was afraid of.

Luke’s heart sank to his stomach as the camera cut back to the reporter who was on the scene.

“Not too long ago, Michael Clifford, son of Daryl and Karen Clifford and heir to _Clifford Industries_ , was involved in a fatal car crash,” the reporter said and Luke choked out a ragged breath at the word “fatal.” He tried to remind himself that the media always exaggerated, but it didn't calm his nerves.

“Authorities say that Clifford was driving under the influence, going almost four times the speed limit when he lost control of his vehicle,” the reporter continued. Luke shook his head furiously at the screen as if it would change anything the reporter was saying.

“Clifford was taken to Mater Hospital immediately. As of right now, we don’t know the severity of Clifford’s condition, but we wish him a speedy recovery,” the reporter concluded, pasting on a fake smile until the camera cut back to the announcers in the newsroom. Luke pressed the power button on the television and watched it fade to black for a moment before he fished his phone out of his pocket. He had several texts from Michael, each one growing more desperate the longer Luke ignored him. Luke felt sick to his stomach as he read through them all.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 9:33 pm**

_luke pls im so sorry_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 9:33 pm**

_i need you_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 9:58 pm**

_i really fucked up didn’t i? the last thing I wanted was to hurt you_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 10:17 pm**

_i know you said you want to move on but I don’t think I can ever get over you_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 11:21 pm**

_fuck we didn’t even date for that long but youre the best thing that’s ever happened to me_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 11:50 pm**

_nothin happened in Italy fyi_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 12:09 am**

_u were right when you said that ialways fuck everything u p_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 12:22 am**

_luek imso ry_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 1:45 am**

_iM soo fukn stu0id_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 2:33 am**

_i nevr hated myslf do much_

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 3:18 am**

_iwant u 2 no i_

Luke sat on the floor of the living room, shaking and crying as he read through Michael’s texts. Luke couldn’t handle all the emotion that was thrumming through his veins. Guilt burned him as if his blood was replaced by hot lead, heavy and scorching his regret into his bone marrow so he could never forget what he did. Anger flooded through him quickly, only to boil down into a calm sort of sadness that lingered in the air and caused his eyes to sting with fresh tears. He dropped his head in his hands and cried, curled up on the floor. He was exhausted, lack of sleep coupled with crippling panic and stress made his head feel fuzzy. He stood unsteadily. He didn't feel in control of his limbs, like his body was moving by itself as he watched from several feet away. His legs moved on their own accord, carrying him out the door and down the street. He didn’t stop until he got to the hospital, the same hospital where Michael took Luke for his head injury, the same hospital where Michael was currently being treated after totaling his car. All because Luke refused to talk to him.

With shaking hands and tear-stained cheeks, Luke entered the hospital. He asked the secretary on the first floor is she heard anything about Michael Clifford. Initially, she denied him information, probably assuming that he was a reporter. Luke pleaded and, against his will, started crying again. Fortunately, the secretary decided to pity him and with a sigh, she told Luke that Michael was in the E.R., currently undergoing emergency surgery and that the surgeon would probably keep him sedated while they observed the extent of his injuries.

Luke thanked her and made his way to the E.R. waiting room, already rehearsing his apology for when Michael wakes up.

_If_ Michael wakes up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's the thing:  
> I debated whether or not to write this note, but I eventually decided that as my readers and supporters, I should share this with you. I really love writing and I really love this story, but I'm not always able to update in a timely manner. Admittedly, I can be too busy, too lazy, or am suffering from writer's block. Most of the time, though, I am unmotivated and mentally drained. Some days I wake up and I can't get the negative thoughts out of my head. I can't make myself feel better and I tend to pull away from other people and shut off. It's just the way my brain works. It's a nuisance to be so sad and self-conscious all the time.  
> I cope with it a lot through writing. When I was younger I would write poetry and song lyrics, and now I write stories involving my favorite band members. (What ever works, right?) Anyway, I just wanted to share this with you because you've all been incredibly supportive and I think you deserve it. I want you to know that I'm very aware of the fact that some of you genuinely like this story (why, I don't know) and I need you to know that I'm not just putting it off because I don't feel like writing all the time. I try very hard to get this story out as quickly as I can without rushing each chapter. This story is my baby and I treat it as such.  
> So now that the embarrassing bit is over, thank you to everyone who reads this, leaves kudos, comments, and/or messages me on tumblr! I appreciate every single one of you and I hope you're having a lovely day wherever you are in the world!


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael's POV.  
> The timeline is between chapter eight and the car crash.

Michael just didn’t understand.

And it’s not that he didn’t want to understand, it’s that Luke didn’t want to _explain_.

There were many pieces of Luke that Michael was having a hard time trying to fit together. With each piece of the enigma that is Luke Hemmings more jagged than the last, Michael felt the phantom throb of a broken heart, the piercing sting of mishandling one of those many pieces, the moment he looked into Luke’s ocean blue eyes. As much as he wanted to escape it, Michael couldn’t help but be pulled in, almost as if an invisible force was drawing him closer, against his will, towards the center of the universe, towards the sun – towards _Luke_. He knew that he would be burned if he got too close, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to take Luke apart cell by beautiful cell and study the way Luke thinks, breathes, and _lives_.

There was a story written within the lines of Luke’s fingerprints, something incredible (whether incredibly good or incredibly bad, Michael didn’t know) had happened to Luke in the past. It was written all over the boy’s skin, was carved deeply into his bones, and manifested itself in Luke’s mannerisms, from the obvious way he seemed uncomfortable in large crowds, looking over his shoulder in such a way that suggested he was checking to see that no ghost from his past had come back to haunt him, to the more subtle way his fingers played nervously with the ring on his pinky finger.

Michael could tell the moment their hands touched and the way sparks were ignited in his veins that there was something more to Luke than the younger boy let on and while Michael was determined to find out what it was, he didn’t want to push Luke too hard.

Unfortunately for Michael, Luke mostly kept to himself and he divulged very little information about his personal life. Michael knew that Luke only had one boyfriend in the past and that their relationship, for whatever reason, didn’t end very well. Michael could only guess that whatever happened to Luke during the duration of that first and only failed relationship was the reason why the younger boy was so afraid of being in another relationship.

Or maybe, Michael thought bitterly, Luke was only afraid of _him_. Admittedly, Michael could be a bit of a handful, always supplying snarky comments and throwing tantrums whenever he didn’t get his way. Maybe he was too much for Luke to handle – too reckless, too haughty, too rich. Everything about him was a polar opposite from Luke, and maybe the old saying has it wrong when it says that opposites attract; maybe they hurt each other instead, coming together in such a way that causes the ground to shake with tremors and the air to be charged with a dangerous electricity. Like two giants clashing and colliding, they could destroy everything in their wake, including each other.

He should have known that he would end up breaking Luke’s heart. Something inside Michael knew all along that Luke was too good for him and maybe subconsciously, Michael hurt Luke before Luke could get a chance to hurt him. It was painfully beautiful the way they fell for each other, clashing and colliding, but still willing enough to trust, albeit it not enough. In the end, they fell together only to immediately fall apart, and that in itself was poetic tragedy.

-

Michael smoked when he was upset.

He also drank.

He smoked and drank and made really stupid decisions like, for example, flying to Italy. It could have been worse, he tried to reason with himself. This barely made the list of Horrible Things He Has Done While Under the Influence. Still, he knew that by running away he was only decreasing what little chance he had left with Luke. He was, in a sense, digging his own proverbial grave. And it would be in this grave that Michael was prepared to spend the rest of his lonely days, kept in company only by the maggots that were waiting for his flesh to rot. Then, maybe in death and as fodder for worms, would Michael repent for his sins, calling to mind the image of a certain blue-eyed boy and praying for this blond deity to grant him forgiveness. Hypothetically, of course.

 _Realistically_ , Michael knew the chances of Luke ever forgiving him were slim to none. Michael knew the difference from right and wrong, just like he knew the difference between what he should have done and what he actually did.

Maybe Michael should have chased after Luke and demanded that they talk things out like the adults they were both pretending to be. Maybe Michael should have told the pilot of his family’s private jet to turn back to Sydney so he could tell Luke that it was okay, that _they_ were okay. Maybe Michael should call Luke right now and tell him that, despite everything, he’s very close to being in love with him.

There are a lot of _maybes_ floating around in Michael’s head right now. Maybe Michael should stop thinking. He’s giving himself a headache.

-

Italy was just as Michael remembered it. He had lived in Southern Italy with his family for a few years before his dad’s business forced them to move, which made the country familiar enough to be considered home, but still foreign enough to be something new and exciting, exactly what Michael needed.

His favorite club in Naples was called Kestè. There was nothing fancy about this particular club. From the outside, it looked like any other building that lined the streets of Naples. It’s brick front was unassuming, making it look more like a pizzeria than a hotspot from vivacious activity. The inside of the club was more modern, with a large bar that spanned almost the entire length of the back wall, lined with bottles of alcohol that reflected the overhanging neon lights. Hanging directly over the middle of the bar was the word _Kestè_ written in large, black metallic lettering. Adjacent to the bar was the dance floor where Michael found himself later that night.

As soon as he arrived, Michael made his way over to the bar, throwing back shot after shot until he felt the taut rope of tension unravel from his shoulders. He made his way onto the dance floor, letting the upbeat, foreign music wash over him and ease his troubled mind.

He felt people dancing all around him and he was comforted by the fact that he seemed to be just one nameless face in a sea of humanity, all rising and swaying with the intent of forgetting themselves and losing themselves to the music. Michael felt at home here, lost in the crowd, but somehow still the center of everyone’s attention. He was anonymous. He wasn’t _Michael Clifford, heir to Clifford Industries_ , he was only a beautiful, exotic person surrounded by even more beautiful and exotic people.

He didn’t think about Luke, he _couldn’t_ even if he wanted to, not with the way the alcohol was making his head feel fuzzy and how the lights were distracting, flashing hypnotically all around him. There was barely enough space for all these people to fit onto the dance floor, which, in Michael’s mind, meant there was definitely no space for thoughts of Luke to try to rudely cram their way in. He had no choice but to forget about Luke for the moment. This place was no where for innocent blue-eyed boys to be, so Michael pushed any and all thoughts of Luke away, out of his mind and out the door of the club. His drunken mind convinced him that it was the right thing to do, so instead of listening to the voicemail Luke had left him shortly after he landed, Michael decided to grab onto the person nearest to him and lose himself to the music.

-

Michael had done a lot of stupid things in the past.

Being photographed dancing suggestively with a stranger in a nightclub made the aforementioned list of Horrible Things He Has Done While Under the Influence.

In his defense, he didn’t know there were people taking pictures of him, let alone that anyone even recognized him. So it was a surprise to him when his dad called him the next morning and told him to “clean up his act.”

He didn’t think anything of it until he saw the picture.

He was clearly drunk, dancing (more like grinding) against a nameless boy. The stranger’s back was pressed against his chest and Michael had his face tilted inwards towards the boy, making it look like his face was pressed against the other’s neck.

Michael knew what people would think when they saw the picture. Even though he knew the truth, that nothing happened between the two of them – that they were just two strangers who met in the night, who danced briefly, and went their separate ways – he knew people would think otherwise. He knew _Luke_ would think otherwise.

The longer he stared at the picture, the more he felt panic begin to rise up in his chest, bubbling its way up into his throat, thick and slow like syrup, where it stuck there and threatened to suffocate him.

There were two things that he was concerned about:

1\. Luke was never going to speak to him again once he saw the picture, which would be understandable if Michael had actually cheated (but is it considered cheating even if they're not officially in a relationship?), but the fact that Michael was going to be accused of something he never did made his blood boil.

2\. He had never officially stated that he was homosexual. No one outside of his family and his past boyfriends knew that he was gay. He preferred to keep his private life  _private_ , away from the prying eyes of people who were all too eager to speculate, and he was anxious of the backlash his sexuality would have on not only him, but his whole family. He could only hope that people were much more accepting than Luke made them out to be.

-

People were not accepting. At all.

People stared at him wherever he went, which wasn’t really anything new (Michael was used to being the center of attention), but what _was_ new was the way some people avoided him like the plague. Michael didn’t like that at all. He was used to being a novelty, being the cool rich kid on campus who graced the peasants with his presence. (He doesn’t really think like that. Not at all. He’s very humble and grounded. Obviously.) He liked seeing how hard people tried to befriend him, how they tried to worm their way into his little circle of friends (jokes on them, though, he doesn’t really have any friends) so they could brag about being friends with _the_ Michael Clifford. But Michael wasn’t stupid. He knew that they only wanted to be “friends” with him because of his status. He couldn’t blame them, though. He _was_ pretty impressive.

But not impressive enough, so it seemed, judging by the way some people stared at him. He heard many people around him clear their throats, coughing in a way that sounded suspiciously like the word “faggot.” Michael ground his teeth together to keep from lashing out.

Michael’s self-esteem was at a dramatic low by the time he decided to check social media. He promised himself that he wouldn't look, that he wouldn't get caught up in all the lies people were inevitably spreading, but he couldn't help himself. People were talking about him, ranging from full-on blog posts to 140 character tweets, all clamoring on about the “big news” that he was gay. Granted, there were people saying positive things about him, defending him and talking about how “brave” he was or some bullshit. He wasn’t _brave_. He was forced out of the closet by some shitty paparazzi who was lurking in the dark shadows of a nightclub, camera poised and ready to snap the picture that would ultimately ruin his life. That could hardly be classified as brave.

With a start, Michael realized that maybe Luke was right, that maybe having the whole world find out your sexuality before you were ready to tell them was a truly horrible thing to experience. Michael never could have prepared himself for this, for the criticism he would receive simply for preferring men over women. It was alarming, really, how many close-minded, bigoted people there were in the world and, despite his best efforts, Michael felt himself cracking more and more under the weight of their harsh words.

-

Michael eventually reached his breaking point. It wasn’t any magazine article, blog post, or ignorant twelve year old on twitter that had finally done him in. No, it was the look of pure detestation and the feeling of rejection that came after he had attempted to talk to Luke in person. The blond boy had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Michael anymore and while that hurt to hear, while that shattered his barely beating heart, Michael couldn’t blame him.

-

It was until later that night did Michael allow himself to completely break down.

His ego had taken blow after blow all day and he decided to throw himself a pity party; the only guests that were invited came in glass bottles and had a high alcohol content. Somewhere along the road to Drunk, Michael convinced himself that his home was at the bottom of each and every bottle he emptied. The alcohol sat heavy, uncomfortably, in his stomach, causing his head to spin as the night progressed and he grew more paranoid.

It felt like there were hundreds of fingers being pointed at Michael from every direction, like there was a spotlight shining directly on him, bathing him in unwanted attention. He didn’t feel safe, not even tucked away within the confines of his room. Somehow, his bed felt too small, his skin felt too tightly stretched across his bones. He felt bigger than he actually was, a giant, clashing and colliding into everything and everyone in a feeble attempt to destroy himself.

He felt boneless, like his lifeline had been severed and he was floating unprotected in the midst of shark-infested waters. He was the prey, the victim. He wasn’t used to feeling so helpless, not accustomed to being in need of protection. The walls he put up were usually enough to keep any predators at bay.

But his walls weren’t as strong as they used to be. They were being worn down; brick by boring brick was slowly being chipped away by the blond demon himself. Michael doesn’t remembered when it happened, when he decided to let Luke in enough so that the other boy would be able to destroy him from the inside. Luke crawled his way under Michael’s skin and took root in his head, and Michael couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ – fight it. He would let Luke destroy him.

He _is_ letting Luke destroy him.

Michael’s thoughts took a turn for the worse then, as if he wasn’t manic enough. Michael was an all or nothing person and if he was going out of his mind, then he would make sure it was a skin splitting, skull shattering, out of body experience that he could remember for years to come. He drank some more alcohol and wondered if, in the future, he’ll be able to pinpoint this as the exact moment of temporary insanity that led to his ruination.

With one last haphazard swig from the bottle, Michael was off and running, ignoring the way the floor seemed to roll unsteadily beneath him as he searched for his car keys.

Lightning was crashing through Michael’s veins as he drove, scorching hateful, self-deprecating words deep into his flesh. All the nasty things people had written about him within the last twenty-four hours were lit up in neon signs behind his eyelids. He thought of the way people stared at him with either disgust or with pity, and Michael didn’t know which was worse.

He was supposed to be able to handle this. He had told himself for years that when he finally, officially came out, he would take any negativity with his head held high. He was never one to seek out other people’s approval, but in this instance, he couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be to have someone on his side, someone to support him and help him deal with his demons.

He thought about his parents. He knew neither of them would be able to help him. They couldn’t possibly understand the battle that was waging on in his head. He and his parents had more of a business relationship than an emotional one. His father was too cold and his mother was too distant and even if he did want his parents’ help, he refused to let them see him in such a weak state. His emotions were running rampant, smothering him. He felt sorry for himself and he was scared, but most of all he was humiliated. He was the laughing stock of Sydney, maybe even the whole world. He wasn’t used to being the butt of someone else’s joke. He was never the victim, always the bully. That was the way he preferred it. That was the natural order of things – the strong preying on the weak. But now _he_ was considered to be weak, now _he_ was the victim and he couldn’t handle it. He didn’t understand how so much of his power could have slipped through his fingertips in such a short amount of time. His bones felt hollow and he didn’t have a firm grasp on anything anymore, especially not himself.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was _strong_. He wasn’t supposed to be so scared. A tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that it was normal, that to be afraid was to be human. He wasn’t human, though. He was Michael Clifford, heir to the multi-million dollar industry his father built. He was _immortal_ , or that’s what everyone had led him to believe.

Not everyone, though. There was one certain blue-eyed boy that had been chipping away at his ego since the very first day they met. That same boy was part of the reason why Michael was in this situation.

Luke was the only other person Michael knew who had experienced something similar to what was happening to him. He had been texting Luke all night, but whether Luke actually read the messages or not, he never answered. And that made Michael feel more alone than he ever had in his whole life – more alone than when he was younger, still dependent on his parents, and his mom and dad would always seem to find an excuse to leave him. Whether it was a business meeting, a charity event, or one of those high-society balls that all the rich people had to attend in order to cement their upper class status, Michael was always abandoned, shoved carelessly into the hands of a stranger. He thinks that maybe how he was raised made him the dysfunctional young man he is today, always trying to live up to his father’s impossible standards and trying to win his mother’s nonexistent love.

Maybe if he just keeps driving, he could fall right off the edge of the Earth and straight into the sun. He’d be willing to give up everything to start again.

In no time at all, Michael must have reached the end of the world because the sun kept getting closer, kept growing brighter. He slumped backwards in the driver’s seat, taking his hands off the wheel as he sped closer towards the sun. He heard the sound of horns, loud and foreboding, warning him of his inevitable end. At the very last second, the sun seemed to swerve in the opposite direction, away from Michael’s car and he watched as it went sailing passed him. A strange metallic sound caused Michael to whip his head forward, the quick movement making his head swim.

In a rare moment of clarity, Michael saw the impact of his car, watched the way the hood of his Porsche folded in on itself to make way for the hard metal of the oncoming guardrail. And in the next moment, he felt himself clashing and colliding with the windshield of his car.

And then he felt nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what you guys think, but I really love this chapter. We get a good look into Michael's mind and the way he thinks and you can tell that he's definitely not normal. He's actually a bit manic and over dramatic and I love that about him. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope I did a decent job at portraying Michael's downfall. But don't worry! Once you hit rock bottom the only place to go is up!  
> As always, thank you SO much for reading this story! I can't believe the amount positive feedback you all send me on here and on tumblr. Thank you for being the most caring and supportive group of people I've ever had the pleasure of writing for. I love you all very much and hope you're all doing well (:


	12. twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things before we start:  
> 1\. I am SO sorry this update took forever. It was a combination of being genuinely busy, writing a cashton fic for my friend, having writer's block, and delving into the dark world of larry stylinson conspiracy theories. (On a side note, if anyone wants to talk larry with me then you can just kik me @ aalexandravictoria) Again, I apologize for the extremely delayed update!  
> 2\. I know nothing about medical stuff and there's a part in this chapter that deals with that so please don't judge because I had to make some things up.  
> 3\. As I mentioned in #1, I had a major case of writer's block during this chapter. I knew what I wanted to write, I just don't think it was well executed and I apologize for making you wait so long for such a lousy update.

Luke didn't know what to do with his hands. He couldn't keep them from shaking as he made his way into the waiting room. When he walked into the room, he saw two people who he immediately recognized as Michael's parents. He froze in place, wide-eyed and cheeks flushed, caught off guard by the presence of the older couple.

Michael didn't talk about his parents often. According to Michael, he and his parents had a "good" relationship; not bad, but could be better. Michael had told Luke several stories with plots that revolved around his parents never being home as much he wanted them to be, which was why Luke was surprised to see both of Michael's parents huddled closely together in the unforgiving faux leather chairs of the hospital's seating. They both looked up as he entered the room. Michael's mother looked at Luke for all of two seconds before she clearly deemed he wasn't any more worthy of her time. Michael's father seemed to be a little kinder. He and Luke exchanged tight-lipped smiles for a moment before he returned his focus to his distressed wife.

"How is he?" Luke asked awkwardly, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment.. "Has there been any news?"

Luke tried not to pay attention to the way Michael's mother narrowed her eyes at him.

"How do you know Michael?" she asked.

"I'm his...friend," Luke replied, not knowing how to honestly answer that question.

She barely nodded her head in acknowledgement of his answer, almost as if she didn't hear him at all.

"Well it was nice of you to stop by," Mr. Clifford smiled warmly, probably in an attempt to defrost his wife's frigid outward demeanor.

Luke nodded his head stiffly and gave the man a shy smile in response.

And with that, the room fell into silence, the only sounds recognizable were the sounds of the hospital - machines beeping, fluorescent lights buzzing, and people shuffling in and out of doors - and even with all that activity, Luke felt the silence screaming at him.

Judging by the way Mrs. Clifford's hands were shaking similarly to his own, Luke knew that deep down, she loved her son. It was hard for Luke to imagine such a mother's love. His own mother stood by and encouraged - _praised_ \- his father while he beat Luke. His mother was all too willing to call Luke a "faggot" and slam the door in his face, forcing him out of his home, his sanctuary, and severing the ties between mother and son. His own parents didn't care, but sitting in the waiting room with Michael's parents, Luke could see that they did, even if they didn't always show it, even if they weren't always there for him, they still loved Michael.

Which was why it was so difficult for Luke to sit in a room with two people who loved Michael so much when he spent most of his time wishing he had never even met him. Guilt cut through him, sharp and hot, burning in his lungs and stinging at his eyes. He tried to force the tears back, to withhold the dam that was more than ready to break behind his eyelids. He tried to discreetly wipe any traces of tears away from his eyes as he worked up the courage to speak again.

"So there wasn't any news?" Luke asked again, clearing his throat because his voice sounded scratchy and foreign.

"Not yet. He's in surgery and they won't let us see him," Mr. Clifford responded as a sob wracked through his wife's body.

Luke knew he was intruding, that this should be a moment shared between husband and wife, something that should be kept within the family. Luke sighed and forced his legs into action, standing shakily as he cleared his throat once more.

"If you get a chance to see him," he paused, his emotions getting the best of him, "can you please tell him that Luke was here?"

"Sure thing," Mr. Clifford responded.

Luke looked at Michael's father and saw the worry and fear that contorted his features. He noticed the way the older man's green eyes, the same beautiful green of Michael's eyes, were shining with unshed tears. Luke's breath stuttered, his heart almost pounded right out of his chest when he thought about never being able to see Michael's eyes again. They were the window to Michael's soul, so vibrant and alive, with that familiar dangerous spark that Luke had grown to love so much. He couldn't stand the thought of those eyes pale and unseeing, lifeless. Luke blinked, trying to force back the tears that crept their way up again at the thought of losing Michael. Mr. Clifford seemed to notice the way Luke's eyes shone abnormally brightly, the overhead florescent lighting reflecting cruelly off the wetness of Luke's eyes. The pair exchanged a sad smile before Luke turned to leave.

It didn't feel right, leaving. Every instinct in his body was telling him to turn around and run through the surgical room doors, to help Michael fight for himself. Luke's heart felt heavy, almost as if it was a stone in his chest, weighing down his guilt and crushing the air out of his lungs. He was the reason why Michael was in the hospital. If he had only listened when Michael had tried to talk to him, if he hadn't been so careless and shut him out, Michael wouldn't be in this situation. Luke had survivor's guilt and even though he wasn't involved in the car crash and even though Michael, fortunately, was still alive, Luke still felt like it should have been him on that operating table.

-

The days seemed to drag on for Luke. Calum and Ashton could sense that something was wrong, but Luke refused to talk about it. He knew Calum wouldn't be very supportive if he found out about Luke and Michael's relationship, so Luke suffered in silence, quietly enduring all the news reports about Michael that his older friends made him sit through.

Luke had gone back to the hospital six times since his first visit. He never saw Michael's parents there again. He also wasn't allowed to visit Michael, seeing that he wasn't considered to be immediate family. The nurses took pity on him, though. One nurse in particular named Robin, a lovely dark-skinned woman with a radiant smile, seemed to take an immediate liking to Luke and after some pressing, Luke finally convinced her to tell him about Michael.

She told him that Michael's injuries were not as bad as they could have been and that Luke should be grateful that most of Michael's wounds were superficial, but Luke was hesitant to allow himself to feel relieved. Michael was driving under the influence, not wearing his seat belt, and the force of his collision with the guardrail was apparently so violent that he was thrown out of his seat and into the windshield of the Porsche. Luke visibly winced at that information, his mind conjuring up too many disturbing mental images of Michael's broken body. Fortunately though, due to the amount of alcohol Michael had in his system, his body was almost completely limp when it collided with the glass and that saved Michael from sustaining some more series injuries.

As it was, Michael had a broken shoulder, two cracked ribs, and a few serious abrasions that required stitches along his face and neck, but aside from that, all of his other injuries were minor. Luke couldn't wrap his head around that information. The moment he saw the image of the totaled Porsche on the news, he had assumed that Michael was dead, or at the very least, broken beyond repair. According to Robin, the surgery was fairly simple. He entered the hospital covered in so much blood that they thought he had somehow severed one of his arteries, but the bleeding mostly sourced from a gash along Michael's neck which barely missed splitting into his pulse point. While the cut was pretty serious and he had to receive thirty-one stitches to stop the bleeding, it was rumored that he could potentially be released from the hospital within the next four to six weeks. He lost enough blood to force him into unconsciousness and a blood transfer had to be done, but all things considered, Michael was doing fairly well. It only took him a few days to fully come into his own. The loss of blood combined with effects from anesthesia made him light-headed and drowsy and it took him a while to fully wake up.

His parents were allowed to visit him whenever he was awake. Luke wasn't able to visit on the day that visitation hours became available to his family members, but he could only imagine the relief both Michael's parents shared when they were finally able to see their son again. There was something about having a loved one in the hospital and not being able to validate their health with your own eyes that caused your mind to create all sorts of disturbing scenarios. Luke kept imagining Michael laying unconscious in his hospital bed, the pure white of his hospital gown tainted red from the sickening amount of blood he lost. Every time Luke closed his eyes, an image of a broken and bruised Michael would appear.

Luke worried himself sick during the time that Michael was in the hospital. He was afraid for Michael's health, afraid that he wouldn't have another chance to see the beautiful boy, but most of all, Luke felt guilty. His overwhelming sense of guilt made him his own worst enemy. He kept making himself feel responsible for Michael's current condition. He would lay awake at night mentally berating himself until he fell into a fitful sleep. He figured it was the least he could do to atone for his sins.

Over a week had passed before Luke was able to see Michael in person and by this point, Luke and Robin had grown fairly close and she decided that Luke had been through enough.

"I will take you to visit your boyfriend today," the nurse spoke, organizing her medical files and filling a syringe. Luke tried not to cringe at the sight of the long needle.

"Are you serious?" Luke asked, dumbfounded but excited by the prospect of seeing Michael after what felt like an eternity. He didn't even bother to correct her when she called Michael his boyfriend.

"You've visited this hospital almost every day, looking more anxious and sleep deprived than the day before. I think it's time someone finally took pity on you."

She led Luke to Michael's room and instructed him to wait outside while she checked Michael's vitals. Ten minutes passed and Luke grew more and more anxious, desperate to finally see Michael again. When Robin finally exited the room, she smiled sweetly at Luke.

"He's awake," she said. "I told him he had a visitor, but didn't tell him who it was. I figured you would want to surprise him."

"Thank you so much," Luke breathed, walking forward quickly to pull open the heavy door of Michael's room. He faintly registered the sound of the older woman's fond chuckling as he slipped inside.

Luke didn't bother looking around the room, his gaze immediately settled over Michael's form on the bed. He was relieved to see that Michael didn't look like the tattered, bleeding vision his mind had conjured up.

Michael eyed him warily, almost as if he was afraid of Luke, before turning his attention away and gazing out the window on the wall opposite from his bed. Luke shuffled forward uncertainly, clearing his throat for an unnecessary amount of time in order to unstick all the words he had wanted to say. The atmosphere in the room was tense and it was clear to Luke that Michael didn't want him there, but the younger boy had too many things that he needed to say.

"You know Robin thinks we're boyfriends," was the first thing that spilled out of Luke's mouth, which probably wasn't the best way to open a very serious conversation, but Luke was socially awkward and he'd be damned if he ever said anything that was smooth.

"So did Dr. Farber," Michael said with his face still turned away, but Luke thought he could detect a hint of a smile tugging up the corners of Michael's lips.

"I guess people in this hospital are accepting of homosexuals. That's cool," Luke supplied lamely, trying to steer the conversation towards the much more serious topics he wanted to discuss.

Michael turned his head toward him then and fixed Luke with a hard stare, one that was eerily similar to how Michael looked at him that first night in the art gallery. Luke tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"Why are you here?" Michael asked and Luke couldn't even be bothered by the sharp tone. He knew Michael well enough by now to the know that he became blunt and defensive in situations he felt uncomfortable in.

"I wanted to see you, make sure you're okay."

"I'm great, obviously, as you can see by the many machines that I'm hooked up to," Michael replied, tugging at the IV that was in his arm to prove his point.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, knowing that it would never be enough, but hoping that it could be.

Michael opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it. He settled for pursing his lips, staring at Luke in such a way that the younger boy was convinced he could see right through him, right into his soul. He only hoped that what Michael saw was enough to convince him to forgive him.

They were silent for a few moments, slipping into the familiar yet unsettling territory of not knowing what the other's next move would be. Luke realized that their relationship was much like a game of chess, always moving against each other, calculating their every move, and too stubborn to admit defeat.

"This isn't healthy," Luke said, breaking the silence. He didn't mean to voice those thoughts out loud, but it felt good to say and he felt like some kind of pressure was alleviated from his chest.

Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, nodding his head to agree that, yes, what they've been doing wasn't good.

"We either need to stop this completely or find a different way to do this," Luke said.

Michael's eyes opened and met Luke's again. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, just staring at the boy in front of him.

"I think," Michael started after a tense moment of silence. He pushed himself further up the bed so his head was resting higher against the pillows. "I think we both have some things we need to work out before we can properly be together."

Luke wasn't expecting that. Michael wasn't normally the serious one in their relationship, but he had apparently been thinking about this long enough to be confident to say it out loud. Luke pulled his lip ring between his teeth, sucking nervously on the piercing and trying to avoid the way Michael's eyes tracked the motion.

"Okay," Luke replied, nodding his head. "So we both have issues, but that doesn't mean we have to give up."

Michael smiled then and Luke's heart kicked violently against his rib cage at the sight of Michael smiling properly for the first time since their last date.

"No, we don't have to give up," Michael agreed and Luke watched the way his eyes seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room.

Luke walked closer to Michael's bed. He had the urge to touch, just to make sure the other boy was actually real, but he hesitated when he saw all the wires that were attached to Michael. Luke settled for carding his fingers through Michael's soft black hair. Michael sighed happily, leaning into Luke's touch and closing his eyes. Enjoying the feeling of being forgiven by Luke after all the wrongs he had done. They stayed like that for a while, only separating when they heard someone pointedly clear their throat behind them.

Luke turned towards the door that he had apparently been too wrapped up in Michael to hear open. Michael's parents were standing in the doorway, each wearing unreadable expressions. Michael's mother was glaring, though, and Luke squirmed under her gaze. She didn't seem too pleased to see Luke gently pulling his hand through Michael's dyed locks.

"Visiting hours are for family only," she said, no hint of emotion reflecting in her voice.

"Mum, it's okay. This is Luke. He's my -"

"Your friend," she interrupted. "We know."

"Mum," Michael started to complain, but this time it was Luke who interrupted him.

"No, it's okay. She's right, Mike, I should go."

"Will you come back?" Michael asked, he sounded so small, so afraid that Luke would actually say no. Luke honestly didn't know what to make of this so arrogant, yet so self-conscious boy.

"Of course," Luke whispered, speaking in a hushed tone to hopefully convey that he didn't want the parents behind him listening to their conversation. "I'll come back whenever you want."

"Tomorrow?" Michael asked.

"See you then," Luke smiled.

He hesitated before he turned, watching Michael's lips pull up into a grin. He wanted to lean down and kiss those pink lips, or at least press a soft kiss to the tip of Michael's nose, anything to let the older boy know that he cared about him. But before he could do either of those things, a cough sounded from behind him once again and Luke blushed, having forgotten that they weren't in the room alone.

"Bye, Michael," Luke said, the smile on his face giving away the total fondness that he felt.

When Luke turned around, he tried to avoid the two sets of judgmental eyes. There was something about the Cliffords that made Luke shift uncomfortably under their unrelenting gaze. Michael's mother continued to look as displeased as ever, as if she somehow knew that Luke was the one who had pushed Michael beyond his limit and landed him in the hospital room, and Luke tried to ignore how uneasy that made him feel. But then he heard the prettiest of sounds, a soft, almost shy, voice broke the silence behind him.

"Bye, Lukey," Michael said and Luke felt a garden of roses bloom in his chest. With those two words, Luke felt like he could take on the world, like he could run to the end of the Earth and back as long as Michael was by his side. He would withstand the judgmental glances and the whispers of the world just as long as he could call Michael his own. Those two words were proof that they were okay and that they would _be_ okay.

Luke left the hospital feeling more sure of himself than he ever had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who reads, comments, and leaves kudos! Thank you for always being so supportive!


	13. thirteen

Luke was in heaven. He was sandwiched between his two best friends in his bed, receiving what he deemed to be the greatest cuddle he has ever had. His face was pressed into the crook of Calum’s neck and he was lying almost completely on top of his older friend while Ashton’s arms were wrapped around his torso. He heard Calum’s heart beating steadily under his ear and felt Ashton’s soft, hot breaths on the back of his neck whenever the curly-haired lad breathed out.

He woke up earlier that morning in good spirits, humming as he made his way into the kitchen for his daily and completely necessary caffeine fix. He knew his good mood wouldn't go unnoticed. He had been feeling quite down ever since Michael had been admitted to the hospital, but after their recent talk, any trace of doubt or hint of a sour mood was washed away with the knowledge that he and Michael were going to be _okay_. He smiled to himself as he prepared his morning coffee, trying to remain oblivious to his two friends' knowing smiles.

They had asked if he was okay and he had responded with a shy smile, fighting the urge to blush when he thought of his hospital visit the day before. They, of course, accepted whatever lie he told them like the great friends they were. They knew better by now than to try to push him for any more information. Instead, the three of them decided it would be a good idea to have a lazy day in, and after Ashton had made a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon (because out of the three of them, he was the only one who could actually cook), they had all piled into Luke’s bed and prepared themselves for a lazy Saturday.

They had all been working hard, each boy respectively stressed out beyond his limits. Ashton was working on an important portfolio piece, one that could potentially be displayed in the art gallery at the end of the semester. He rarely let Calum and Luke see his work, refusing to let them see anything other than the final, perfected image. (Artists could be so fussy.) Calum had been busy at the garage where he worked, picking up a few more hours to help pay for the rent that seemed to keep increasing. If their rent went up anymore, they would probably have to look for another place to live. Meanwhile, Luke had been busy trying to balance his classes, his job, and his daily hospital visits and relationship with Michael. (Calum and Ashton still didn’t know about that last part. It's not that he wanted to keep his best friends in the dark, he just firmly believed that _Luke and Michael_ and  _Luke, Calum, and Ashton_ should still be kept separate.)

Luke’s phone vibrated from where it was pushed under his pillow and he smiled to himself when he saw Michael’s name appear on the screen. Flipping open his phone, and being careful to shield the message from prying eyes, he read Michael’s text. He couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face when he found out that Michael would be discharged from the hospital in only a few days.

“How’s your boyfriend?” Ashton teased, noticing the way Luke was smiling dumbly down at his phone.

He typed out a quick reply before flipping his phone shut again and responding, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, he’s _something_ ,” Calum spoke up from underneath him. “Just look at the way you get all mushy whenever he texts you.”

“I’m not mushy,” Luke pouted and his friends laughed at him.

“You’re literally the mushiest person I know,” Ashton said, lifting Luke off of Calum and settling him against his side. Luke went easily, pliant in Ashton’s arms and clinging to him instantly.

“See what I mean,” Ashton giggled.

“This is different,” Luke argued, voice muffled from where his head was now buried into Ashton’s side. “Everyone knows I’m a slut for cuddles.”

“Are you now?” Calum laughed, turning onto his side so his front was pressed against Luke’s back. “We would have never guessed.”

“Fuck off,” Luke mumbled borrowing further into Ashton.

“Such language!” Calum feigned offense. “He never used to talk to me like this, Ash.”

“Maybe that boyfriend of his is a bad influence,” Ashton replied.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Luke complained, punching Ashton weakly on his chest.

“Our little boy has grown up so fast,” Calum said, fake crying into Luke’s neck.

“Go away,” Luke muttered, attempting to shrug Calum off just as his phone vibrated once again.

“What does the boyfriend want now?” Ashton asked playfully, running his fingers through Luke’s hair.

“Maybe they’re sexting,” Calum said and then he gasped. “Luke Robert Hemmings, are you sexting your boyfriend while you’re cuddling with us?”

Luke sat up, flipping open his phone and quickly scanning over Michael’s new message. He smiled down at his phone, cheeks slightly flushed when he read that Michael had asked him out for another date as soon as he was out of the hospital.

“They’re definitely sexting,” Ashton agreed and Luke pushed down the giddy feeling in his chest long enough to glare at his friends.

“We’re not sexting and he’s _not_ my boyfriend.”

“Right,” Calum said, directing his words towards Ashton. “How silly of us to see him being all fond and blushy and assume he’s just texting his platonic bro-pal.”

Luke rolled his eyes as he typed out his reply to Michael, telling him that he couldn’t wait for their next date.

“You guys are the worst,” Luke replied, but there was no heat behind his words.

“We love you too,” Calum said, pulling Luke back down in between him and his boyfriend and resuming their cuddle session.

-

The next day, Luke went to the hospital and Robin was nice enough to allow him to visit Michael again.

“You know,” the nurse said as they walked down the long hallway towards Michael’s room. “He seems to be doing a lot better since he saw you the other day.”

“That’s good,” Luke replied. “I’m happy he’s okay.”

“You’re a good boyfriend,” she said, using her hips to help her push open the door to Michael’s room. Luke’s cheeks flushed at her compliment, even if it wasn’t necessarily true. He wasn’t about to correct her though, he learned from Calum and Ashton that there was no point in telling her otherwise. Michael looked up at the sound of the door opening and he smiled around a spoonful of pudding when he saw Luke. Luke tried really hard not to be too endeared by the sight. (He failed.)

“How’re you feeling, sweetie?” Robin asked, checking the numbers on the machine that Michael was hooked up to.

“I’m better now,” Michael smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at Luke. Luke smiled back just as brightly.

“Right, well I’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it. Try not to stay too long, Luke. I can still get in trouble for letting you in here,” Robin said.

“Of course. Thanks, Robin,” Luke replied, nodding his head at the nurse as she left the room. The door fell shut with a soft click behind her.

He turned back to Michael only to find that he was already looking at him. Luke noticed that he had a little pudding stuck to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m happy you came,” Michael said, but Luke was too distracted by the way the pudding moved when Michael spoke.

“You okay?” Michael asked and Luke laughed, moving towards the hospital bed. He sat down next to Michael and allowed the other boy to take hold of his hand.

“Is this okay?” Michael asked, not wanting to push Luke away. He knew now how self-conscious Luke was, especially in a situation that revealed his sexuality. The last thing Michael wanted to do was make Luke feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Luke breathed as he leaned in towards Michael.

He heard the way Michael’s breath hitched as he did so. Luke brought his free hand to the corner of Michael’s mouth and gently thumbed away the remains of the chocolate pudding. He never broke eye contact as he did and when he had collected all the leftover pudding onto his thumb, he sucked his thumb into his mouth.

Michael groaned. “You can’t do this to me, Luke, it’s not fair. I haven’t been able to have a proper wank in forever.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Luke teased.

“You’re not supposed to make it worse,” Michael pouted and Luke couldn’t help himself when he leaned forward and kissed him.

Michael slapped him. “Stop torturing me!”

Luke laughed. “I’m sorry, you’re lips are just always so…” Luke trailed off, not wanting to say anything that could embarrass himself.

“So what?” Michael asked, smug smirk in its rightful place.

“So…kissable,” Luke admitted, staring down at their joined hands.

Michael made a soft cooing sound and Luke smacked him.

“Hey!” Michael protested. “You can’t hit a person who's in the hospital!”

“Watch me,” Luke said, attacking Michael’s sides where he knew he was the most ticklish.

Michael sunk lower into the hospital bed, writhing uselessly under the covers in an attempt to get away from Luke. Eventually he gave up trying to bat Luke’s hands away and he wrapped his arms around Luke’s neck instead, pulling him down towards his body and sliding their lips together. Luke’s assault on Michael’s sides ceased immediately as he brought his hands up to cup Michael’s jaw.

Kissing Michael was always surprising for Luke. It was the sweetest cliché, something right out of a movie. There were fireworks, shooting stars, all the things you hear about in a Nicholas Sparks novel. Michael’s presence was big and bold, like a planet attracting its own orbit. Luke often felt like a single shooting star, making his lonely way throughout the galaxy, frightened of falling endlessly into a black hole. But when he kissed Michael, he was no longer that singular, lonesome star. He swelled and blossomed and combined with Michael to create their own universe, separated from the one they knew, yet unique and perfect in its own way.

Luke pulled away from the kiss, not because he wanted to, but because he kept smiling and that made it difficult for them to continue. Luke stared down at their hands again, absentmindedly sucking on his lip ring and playing with their interlaced fingers. Michael watched Luke for a moment, green eyes flickering over his face and causing a trail of heat to spread along Luke's skin when he noticed the older boy's staring.

“Can you do me a favor?” Michael asked and Luke hummed in agreement. “Can you bring me a book to read so I don’t go out of my mind with boredom?”

“Sure,” Luke smiled. “You have something in mind or do you want me to pick one out for you?”

“Can you bring me _To Kill A Mockingbird_?”

Luke laughed. “What is your obsession with that book?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Michael replied, picking at a thread on his blanket. “When I first saw you, you carried that book everywhere with you.”

Luke thought back to the time when Calum first suggested a way for him to get a college education for free, when Michael was practically a stranger. He didn’t like Michael then. He just assumed that Michael was the snarky, self-centered twat that he made himself out to be. He was, in a way, but there was more to him than just that. Luke was so quick to assume, to jump to negative conclusions when he didn’t even know Michael. He still didn’t, though. There was a lot to Michael that the other boy kept hidden away and a frown set into Luke’s features when he realized this. After all the progress Luke had thought they made, they really hadn't come too far at all. Luke wanted to change that. He needed to if he wanted them to work.

“Why did you do it?” Luke asked. He watched the way Michael’s brows furrowed together, causing a confused little ‘v’ to appear between them. He smoothed it away with his thumb.

“Do what?” Michael asked.

“Why did you, like, follow me? In the beginning? It was kind of creepy, y’know,” Luke replied.

“Yeah, it was,” Michael sighed, sounding disappointed with himself.

There was a moment of silence where Michael was thinking, debating with himself about what to say and how to say it.

“You just kept pushing me away,” he started slowly, lifting his gaze from the blanket in order to look Luke directly in the eyes. “You wanted nothing to do with me and it was annoying at first. All I wanted was to talk to you, but you kept running away from me.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” Luke interjected. “I hated you after what you said to Ashton.”

“I’ll admit that was a horrible first impression,” Michael snorted, running a hand over his face and scratching at the facial hair that had grown during his stay in the hospital. “I was just trying to impress you,” he admitted.

“By acting like a douche?”

“I thought it was your thing,” Michael replied and Luke rolled his eyes.

“Because you thought I was a twink?” Luke asked.

“Did not.”

“That’s all you kept calling me whenever you talked to me!”

“I didn’t know your name,” Michael defended.

“You found out eventually though,” Luke said, giving Michael a pointed look.

Michael noticeably cringed. “That was very stalker-ish, I agree. I should have never followed you around like that. But in my defense, I couldn’t find your file in the school’s database.”

“You do realize how weird you sound right now, right?”

Michael sighed. “Yeah, I know. I just really wanted to get to know you. I tried searching you on Facebook first like a normal person but _unlike_ a normal person, you don’t have one. And then I saw the phone that you had and I figured it was because you were technologically impaired, so I did the next best thing. Once I found out your name it should have been pretty easy to look you up, but you still came up blank.” Michael paused. He stared at Luke with his lips pursed, looking like he was trying to put all the pieces together. “It’s like you don’t even exist,” he said after a moment.

Luke let out a loud breath. While he didn't want to have this particular conversation, he couldn't deny that he knew it was coming. He accepted the fact that he would have to tell Michael sooner or later, he would have just preferred for it to be later. All he wanted was to go back to the beginning of their relationship and discuss things, right any wrong that they had done to one another. Luke realized that maybe by keeping this secret from Michael, that he was holding back their relationship. He stared back at Michael, biting the inside of his cheek as he weighed the pros and cons of letting Michael in on his secret. He knew he couldn’t hide it forever, not from the people he was so close to. He told Ashton almost immediately. Their relationship was still ripe and blossoming, helped along slightly by the fact that he was dating Luke’s best friend, but he still told him. He was scared at the time, unsure of Ashton’s reactions, but he felt better afterwards. He remembered feeling like a large part of their friendship was built on a lie, like they couldn’t truly be friends until Luke spilled his secret. He figured that he should do the same with Michael. He couldn't have Michael thinking that he was somebody he’s not. Michael, unknowingly, presented Luke with probably his one and only opportunity to come completely clean, to make a fresh start. He had to tell Michael now. He couldn't (and shouldn't) wait any longer.

Luke took a deep breath to steady himself and said, “That’s because I’m not a real student there.” He was proud of himself for not stuttering. His voice stood strong and made him sound sure of himself.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.

“I’m not, like, officially a student there,” Luke said. He didn’t know any other way to explain himself.

“How is that possible?”

“I couldn’t, uh, afford it,” Luke stammered out.

Michael narrowed his eyes at him, as if the concept of not being able to afford something was foreign to him. (Which, in all honesty, it probably was.)

“So you pretend to be a student?” Michael finally asked.

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I kind of am,” was Luke’s helpless response.

Michael was quiet for a moment before asking, “Is that why you never go into the classroom?”

Luke gulped. “You noticed that?”

Michael nodded his head slowly, as if the movement would help all the pieces click together in his mind. “I thought it was an anxiety thing at first ‘cause I know how nervous you can get. I thought that maybe you physically couldn’t handle being in a room full of strangers like that.”

Luke held his breath, chewing his lip raw. He was waiting for Michael to finally understand exactly what he was saying, that he was lying, _stealing_ , that was he was doing was illegal. This would probably set them back. Maybe Michael would be so disgusted that he’d chose to end whatever their relationship was for good before they got too caught up in it again. Maybe Michael would even tell someone and get Luke thrown off campus. If there’s one thing Luke did know, it’s that Michael was unpredictable, a loose cannon, and he could never anticipate his next move. When the silence proved too much for Luke, he boldly spoke up.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Michael sighed. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Are you mad?” Luke asked.

“Kind of,” Michael replied and Luke winced.

“I know it’s wrong, but it was the only way…” Luke trailed off, sucking in one more big gulp of air and holding it in his lungs. Michael watched him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Luke pleaded in a small voice.

Michael hesitated, but then promised, “I won’t,” and that was at least _something_ and Luke was grateful for anything that Michael would give him. “I just, like, want to think about some stuff,” Michael said, looking between Luke and the door and making it obvious that he wanted Luke to leave.

“Okay,” Luke agreed. His voice sounded as small as he felt.

He could do this. He could give Michael his time and space, let him think about everything they talked about today and see which direction he wanted their relationship to go in. Luke should do the same. Leaving was probably the right thing to do, even if it felt so wrong.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with your book,” Luke said as he stood from the bed, hoping that Michael would still want to see him again.

Michael didn’t seem to want to let go of Luke’s hand and Luke took that as a positive sign. Maybe everything would be _okay_.

“Thanks,” Michael offered him a small smile.

Luke wanted to kiss him again, to taste the remains of the chocolate pudding and see the galaxies that formed behind his eyelids again. Instead, he untangled his fingers from Michael’s and made his way towards the door. Every instinct in his body was telling him not to go, that he couldn't leave when he and Michael stood on uneven ground. They had left things like this before and it hadn't ended well and Luke was determined to never let that happen again, so he decided to make one final stand and let Michael know how he felt about the whole situation.

“I wouldn’t be mad if the situation was reversed, y'know? Like, if you were just trying to do something good for yourself, I wouldn't hate you for it. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just trying to give myself the normal life that my parents took away from me.”

Michael bit his lip, apparently deep in thought. He looked troubled and confused and Luke could tell that he wanted to ask a million questions, but he was biting his tongue. He was probably trying to figure out how much he could ask - and how much Luke would be willing to tell him - without pushing him past his breaking point. When it became apparent that Michael wasn't going to respond, Luke turned to leave once again. With his hand on the doorknob, Michael called from behind him.

“Hey, Luke?”

Luke turned, eyebrows raised expectantly, holding on to his last shred of hope that they would be _okay_.

“Remember my book, yeah?” Michael asked with the tiniest of smiles on his face.

Luke smiled back. “Yeah. Of course.”

"See you tomorrow, then," Michael said.

It felt like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one will primarily focus on tying up any lose threads from previous chapters. Luke and Michael are going to analyze their relationship and work on making themselves better so that their relationship can work out in the long run. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As always, thanks for being so supportive and taking time out of your day to read it and leave kudos/comments.  
> In other news, I'm going to see 5SOS on Sunday!!!!!!!! I am so freaking excited that I just might blow up. So if you never hear from me again, please know that seeing 5SOS live was the cause of my death. (:


	14. fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some homophobic slurs and depictions of violence. Warnings for parental abuse ahead. Please be careful if those things trigger you.

Michael was asleep when Luke visited him the following day. He probably should have called Michael’s room to let him know that he was on his way. Robin was hesitant to let Luke visit, but he promised that he wouldn’t stay long, that he just needed to drop something off for Michael. Luke placed the book on Michael’s bed side table and a kiss on his forehead before he was off again. He had planned to spend his morning with Michael before his classes started for the day, but now that he had all this extra time he figured he would spend it at the library and make up some work he had neglected in favor of spending time with Michael.

He was in his usual back corner of the library, reading over his psychology notes, when Ashton sat down next to him.

“Hey,” Luke grunted, not lifting his gaze from the words on the page.

“What’s up?” Ashton asked.

“Just going over some psych stuff,” Luke replied.

Ashton shuffled awkwardly in the seat next to Luke, clearing his throat several times too many for it to be natural.

“You okay?” Luke asked, finally looking up from his textbook.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

Ashton looked nervous, unsure of how to say whatever it was that was bothering him. He ran a hand through his untamed curls, accidentally smudging some charcoal across his forehead in the process. Luke remained silent, staring expectantly and waiting for Ashton to make the first move.

“My little sister,” he paused to clear his throat again. “My little sister is obsessed with that gossip magazine _Sydney Confidential_ , right? It’s mostly just news about celebrities, a who’s-dating-who kind of thing. The Cliffords are featured in the magazine a lot ‘cause they’re local celebrities.”

Ashton paused to dig through his bag of sketchbooks and art supplies before he pulled out a magazine. Luke wasn’t sure which direction this conversation was headed, but he automatically knew he didn’t like it. Ashton thumbed through the magazine before finding what he was looking for. He placed it down over Luke’s psychology textbook and said, “Imagine my surprise when I saw an article written about you.”

“Me?” Luke squeaked, staring down at the magazine with wide eyes.

There was a picture of him leaving the hospital in the upper left hand corner of the page, right under a headline that read, **‘DOES MICHAEL CLIFFORD HAVE A NEW BOY TOY?’**

Luke’s stomach dropped.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a very long article. It was just a couple of sentences stating that sources have seen “one particular tall, fit, blond” visiting the hospital every day since Michael had been admitted. There was even a picture of Luke with Michael’s parents in the waiting room the night of Michael’s accident.

The article was innocent enough. There wasn’t enough evidence from those two pictures to prove that Luke was anything more to Michael than just a friend. But the fact that Michael had recently been photographed with that boy in Italy had people questioning his sexuality and subsequently speculating if his relationship with Luke was more than just platonic. Luke groaned, dropping his head against the table and pushing the magazine away from him.

“Is it true, then?” Ashton asked. “Are you and Clifford…?”

“We’re something,” Luke sighed against the tabletop.

“I thought you hated him?”

“I thought I did too.”

“I’m worried about you,” Ashton spoke up, his words coming out in a singular rush of air. “He’s not a very good person. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Luke turned his head to glare at his friend. He felt an overwhelming urge to defend Michael. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough about him,” Ashton defended. “He’s not the best person.”

“He’s not the worst, either,” Luke argued.

Ashton pursed his lips and looked at Luke for a long minute before he asked, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Luke pushed himself off the table and sunk down lower on his chair, staring at his hands folded in his lap.

“I may or may not be crazy about him,” Luke confessed.

A silence overcame the two boys then. Ashton watched Luke carefully, trying to assess the situation and figure out exactly what kind of relationship his friend was in. Luke was lost in his own head, silently mortified that he had been featured in a gossip magazine (and even more embarrassed that he had been referred to as a "boy toy"). He knew that Michael and his family held some sort of local celebrity status, he just didn’t realize that it was enough to get _himself_ into a magazine as well. If Luke was being honest with himself, he knew that Michael's fame wasn't the real problem. The problem was that people were now second-guessing Michael’s sexuality, which meant that now that Luke was tied to Michael within the media, people were also questioning _his_ sexuality. And therein lied the issue of Luke’s sexuality crisis that he had been dealing with silently and secretly for years.

“This was not how any of this was supposed to happen,” Luke complained down to the hands still on his lap. “We were supposed to work through all our shit and then come out only when I felt comfortable. This,” he gestured towards the discarded magazine, “was never part of the plan.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” Ashton apologized, but Ashton didn’t know the extent of it all. He remained clueless to the details of Luke and Michael’s relationship. Luke could hear the uncertainty of his voice and it was clear that the older boy didn’t know what exactly he was apologizing for.

“It’s fine, Ash, really. I gotta go,” Luke said as he stood and collected all his books.

“Where are you going? Don’t you have classes today?”

“I’m not going,” Luke mumbled. “I need to talk to Michael. He’ll make it all better. Don't say anything to Cal, okay? He can't find out yet.”

Luke was aware of the way Ashton’s voice carried through the library as he called after him. He heard the librarian shush his friend before he was out the door and practically sprinting to the hospital. He stared at the ground the entire way there, afraid of the judgmental glares that could potentially be sent his way.

-

Luke arrived in Michael’s room for the second time that day and this time, much to Luke’s relief, Michael was awake. He looked up from his book with a confused albeit genuine smile on his face and Luke felt the tension slowly leave his shoulders. Michael looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world, smiling sweetly at Luke over the pages of his book and just for a moment Luke could pretend that his world wasn’t crumbling apart underneath him.

“What are you doing here? I thought I’d see you before your shift later.”

Michael’s voice was so low and melodic and it somehow was able to chase Luke’s nerves away and send the butterflies in his stomach aflutter at the same time. Luke would never quite get used to the effect Michael had on him.

He sat on the edge of the bed next to Michael for a moment, just testing the water. He was still unsure of where they stood after Luke had confessed about pretending to be a student so he could get an education for free. He had hoped to talk to Michael about it earlier in the morning when he lent him the book, but there was no way he was going to wake Michael up from his sleep. He looked too peaceful to be bothered, all soft skin and delicate curves, and Luke decided that he could let it be for a few more hours.

Michael didn’t seem angry at him now, though. He seemed surprised to see Luke so early in the day after he had admitted that he had plans, lectures to sneak to, actually, but he still seemed grateful for Luke’s presence. He figured that if Michael really was mad, he would make it known. He would tell Luke to not sit on his bed or suggest that he leave again, but he did none of that now. He didn’t pull away when Luke made himself more comfortable on the bed and leaned up against him. Instead, he placed the book on the other side of him and wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders and Luke knew then that he was forgiven.

“Is everything okay?” Michael asked and Luke let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

“I’m in a magazine?” Luke said, but it came out sounding more like a question.

“What?” Michael asked, pulling Luke tighter against him.

“ _Sydney Confidential_  ran an article about me possibly being your boyfriend, or ' _boy toy_ ,' were the words their exact words, actually" Luke replied, rolling his eyes. "People have seen me visiting every day. There are even pictures of me leaving the hospital and sitting in the waiting room with your parents.” Luke’s voice sounded shaky, unsteady, as everything finally sunk in. He was scared of what would happen, what people’s reactions would be once they found out he was gay.

“Shit,” Michael whispered, sensing Luke’s discomfort and running a hand slowly up and down his side. “I’m so sorry, Luke. My dad said he bought off the paparazzi for the time being.”

“They promised to not take any pictures of you. They never said anything about me.”

“Not that I expected them to take pictures of me,” Luke continued after a short silence. “I didn’t even see anyone taking pictures, but now everyone knows. Everyone knows I’m gay. I tried so hard to keep it a secret and now it’s out there in the world and I’m not _ready_ for people to know.”

“I’m _so_ sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so reckless… But they don't know for sure. They have no proof, really. I doubt anyone suspects a thing,” Michael trailed off when he saw the tears silently falling down Luke’s cheeks. “Baby, c’mere,” he sighed and Luke nuzzled his face into Michael’s neck.

“Nothing’s ever easy for us,” Luke laughed humorlessly. “I just want to start all over again.”

“Who says we can’t?”

“What?” Luke asked, confused by the fierce tenacity of Michael’s tone.

Michael smiled a big toothy grin, pink lips contrasting against white teeth as he said, “Hi, I’m Michael Clifford. I think you’re really cute and I promise I won’t stalk you around campus or be a dickhead to your friends.”

Luke laughed at Michael’s attempt to cheer him up and decided to play along.

“Hey, I’m Luke Hemmings. Even though you may see me around campus a lot I'm not actually a student there. I think you're pretty cute too and I promise to be honest with you all the time and I won’t judge and jump to conclusions about you when I don’t even know you.”

“Well, Mr. Luke Hemmings, you seem like a really nice guy and I’d like to get to know you more. What would you say to going on a date with me tomorrow after I finally get out of this hell hole?”

Luke smiled into Michael’s neck. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Clifford. On one condition though.”

“What’s that?” Michael hummed.

“We go somewhere private. Somewhere we won’t be photographed.”

“Deal,” Michael responded and placed a kiss on the top of Luke’s head.

They fell into a comfortable silence then. Luke focused on the steady beating of Michael’s heart underneath him and tried to synchronize his breathing with Michael’s calmer, slower breaths. The tears eventually stopped falling and Michael continued to rub his hand soothingly across the planes of Luke’s back. Luke sighed, feeling content, savoring the peacefulness before the storm. He knew what was coming, what was at stake and what he was willing to lose.

He’d risk it all for Michael. Even in their worst moments, even when Luke _swears_ that letting Michael in was the worst decision he’d ever made, he knew there was something there. Something that he had never felt with anyone before. That certain something made him strong, made him feel invincible, and he was more than ready to take on the world with only Michael by his side. He just needed to know if the other boy felt the same.

“Are you okay with what I told you? You seemed kind of upset yesterday,” Luke said.

“Yeah,” Michael took a deep breath and Luke moved slightly with the rise and fall of Michael’s chest. “I mean, I was upset, but I’m not mad at you. I don’t really understand why you’re doing this, but I can at least try to," Michael took another breath,"'You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.'"

"Did you just? Did you just quote  _To Kill a Mockingbird_ at me?" Luke asked, laughing in disbelief.

Michael shrugged. "It fit the mood, didn't it?"

Luke just laughed and shook his head and Michael took that opportunity to continue, "Like you said, you’re not hurting anyone, so there’s no real reason for me to be angry. I guess I was just kind of confused.”

“Confused about what?” Luke asked. He felt Michael shrug again underneath him.

“I’ve always had a ton of money so I never wanted for anything. What I did with my money was never a concern for me. I guess you made me realize that not everyone always has it so easy. But what I don’t understand is why you _really_ want to go to uni so badly.” Michael explained.

“I always wanted to go to uni,” Luke replied. “Like, that’s the dream, right? Go to school, earn a degree, get a job, get married, have kids, live happily ever after.”

Michael snorted. “That’s a pretty lame dream.”

“It’s what I want, though,” Luke sighed almost wistfully against the skin of Michael’s neck.

Michael knew that there was more to it than just that. He had never met anyone who was as desperate as Luke to lead a normal life and he felt the need to ask, “What did you mean yesterday when you said that you were just trying to give yourself the life your parents took away from you? And before you answer, remember that you literally just promised that you’d always be honest with me.”

This was what Luke had been dreading from the start, what held him back from moving on with Michael in their relationship. This was the reason for all his insecurities and doubts and even though he knew he had to be honest with Michael, he still didn’t want to relive that horrible part of his past.

“Okay, um. My parents and I didn't really get along, which is why I live with Calum. We just had different beliefs, so I left home,” Luke explained, trying to be as vague as he possibly could. He should have known it wouldn’t be enough for Michael.

“Something’s telling me that you’re not giving me the whole story.”

Luke sighed. “I don’t think you’d like the whole story.”

“I still want to know it,” Michael replied.

“Alright,” Luke began, his voice wavering. “Even when I was younger, I knew that I preferred boys over girls. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that until I asked my mom about it one day and she basically told me that everything I was feeling was “bad” and “immoral.” She told me that I should never have the same feelings for a boy that I’d have for a girl, otherwise I’d go to hell. That really scared me ‘cause I was just a child at the time and the concept of burning in hell was terrifying. Any time I would start thinking about a boy in _any_ way, not even just sexually, I would think about how bad I was being and force myself to stop. That caused me to have a lot of issues with making friends. I was shy and very careful and I was automatically pegged as the weird, quiet kid. And my mom knew that she had an edge over me, so she’d use her religious beliefs to scare me into being the perfect son that she wanted. She manipulated me and preyed on my insecurities my whole childhood, but the devil could only scare me for so long and by the time I was a teenager, I was ready to explore my feelings again.

I started dating this guy, Jacob. He was really nice, all dark hair and blue eyes. I thought I was in love. I kept him hidden from my parents for the longest time, but he eventually got tired of sneaking around. So I brought him over to dinner one night and I introduced him as my boyfriend. I still remember the look on his face, how proud and _happy_ he looked. I felt the same way, like I could have ruled the world as long as I had my boyfriend by my side. And it was _so good_ to finally be able to call him my boyfriend.” Luke paused for a moment and Michael watched as the nostalgic smile slowly slipped off Luke’s face.

“But then,” Luke started again, forcing himself to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Then, my parents got really angry. Like really, irrationally angry. My mom threw a plate against the ground and my dad jumped up from the kitchen table. I thought he was going to try to reason with her, tell her that me having a boyfriend didn’t justify breaking the fine China,” Luke smiled weakly, eyes glassed over. “But he didn’t do any of that. He picked up a plate too, but instead of throwing it on the ground, he threw it at me. He kept screaming insults at Jacob, saying that he was a worthless faggot and that he should kill himself. It was all so horrible. Who says that to a sixteen year old boy? Jacob ran out of the house and I never saw him again.”

Luke began to sob as he told the final part of the story. “When Jacob was gone, my dad, he – he,” Luke wiped his nose on the back of his hand and sat up. He wouldn’t dare look at Michael’s face, too afraid of the pity he knew would be etched into his delicate features, so Luke stubbornly kept his gaze down and took a deep breath to steady himself.

“My dad turned on me. He punched me and kicked me until I was bruised and bleeding and crying out for him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He yelled at me, said he was trying to ‘beat the gay’ out of me, but you and I know that that’s not how it works. He didn’t understand, though. He just kept hurting me and I swore he was going to kill me. I don’t know even how I’m still alive. I blacked out at one point and I was so afraid that I wasn’t going to wake up again. Eventually, I managed to crawl into my room and pack some of my things before I left. My mom slammed the door behind me, telling me to never come back. I showed up at Calum’s apartment, the same one I live in with him now, with a backpack full of clothes and a couple of broken bones.”

The room was mostly silent aside from the sound of Luke’s tears falling against the bed. He waited with bated breath for Michael to say something, _anything_. He would take whatever the other boy was willing to give to him.

Minutes seemed to drag on and then, out of the silence, a strangled, “ _Luke_ ,” was punched out of Michael’s throat and Luke turned to find the other boy crying just as hard as he was.

Luke situated himself above Michael and pulled the older boy against his chest. “Shh, Mike. It’s okay. I’m okay,” he repeated as he pet Michael’s hair.

He let Michael cry against him for several more minutes until he finally started to calm down.

“This is ridiculous,” Michael sputtered, pulling himself away from Luke’s protective hold and wiping at his eyes. “I should be the one comforting you.”

“Why would you need to do that? It’s my past. I already lived it.” Luke shrugged, but he knew it seemed more forced than the noncommittal response he was going for.

“Just because it’s in your past doesn’t mean it can’t affect your future. And it clearly has affected you, even if you don’t want to admit it. You probably think about it a lot more than you’re willing to admit,” Michael argued.

Luke wasn’t going to let Michael know how right he was. “Everybody’s got their demons.”

“I just didn’t realize how scary yours were,” Michael said, swiping his thumb gently under Luke’s eyes to catch the last of the falling tears.

Luke laughed and Michael gave him a watery smile.

“What’s this? The great Michael Clifford _crying_? What will the tabloids say?” Luke teased, poking Michael in the side, but being mindful of his broken ribs, until Michael tried to squirm away.

“The tabloids can say whatever the fuck they want. I don’t care. It’s just you and me, baby. You and me and all of the skeletons in our closets.” Michael joked.

“Why do the skeletons get to stay in the closet, but I was forced out of it because I may or may not be your boyfriend?” Luke pouted and Michael couldn’t resist, so he leaned up to kiss Luke.

"I believe the correct term is  _boy toy_ ," Michael smirked against Luke's lips and Luke bit down on Michael's plump bottom lip in retaliation to his teasing.

“And what do you mean ‘may or not be?’ You’re definitely my boyfriend,” Michael stated when he pulled away.

Luke barked out a laugh. “Oh yeah? When did that happen?”

“Just now. I decree it.”

“And what if I don’t want to be your boyfriend?” Luke asked, nosing along Michael’s jaw line.

“Do you not know me at all? I always get what I want.”

They both laughed, even though there was hardly anything to laugh about. Luke found that laughing with Michael was easy, just being with Michael in general was as easy as breathing. He caught Michael's lips in a searing kiss and they stayed that way for a while, laughing and kissing until the tears that sprung to their eyes were tears of joy instead of sadness.

Luke thought back to what Michael said about not having very big dreams or goals for himself. While other people wanted things that seemed borderline unrealistic, things that were so out of reach, so ridiculously far away that it was silly to even want them in the first place, Luke had a smaller, more intimate plan for himself, one that consisted of getting that happily ever after he had mentioned earlier. And while Luke may not have had a very good start to achieving that goal, he knew that as long as he had Michael in his arms, he was one step closer to living his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to make everyone aware of the fact that I will be starting school again in only a few short days. Not only is it my last semester of college, but I have an internship I need to complete in order to graduate so I am warning you now that updates will probably be few and far between. I apologize in advance for any delays and I hope that you can still manage to be as enthusiastic as you have been about this story up until this point.  
> Thank you! (:


	15. fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> I am back! It's been such a long time since I last updated. I basically bled these words onto your screen because I didn't want anyone to be disappointed with my first update in months (sorry if you were still disappointed).
> 
> Just to keep everyone on the same page, there aren't that many more chapters before this story can be laid to rest. I think there might be about four more before it's all over. Those chapters are not written yet so I will determine how much longer there is to go with this story as I write. Unfortunately, I cannot update as frequently as I would like to. My semester is over and I have officially graduated college, but the internship I had over the semester led to a full time job, so I have limited hours during the week to write. In addition to this, you will probably have to wait a bit again for the next chapter. I promised my best friend that I would write a Cashton au for her. I have been working on it since August and I would really like to have it done within the next month or so. Once the Cashton fic is complete, this will be my main priority until it's completed. Thank you all for staying with me and keeping up with this story. Let me know what you think on here or on [tumblr.](http://www.abofics.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you!

“I always wanted to be in a band,” Michael confessed to the night sky, voice hushed and eyes focused on the constellations above him.

They were at a park in the center of the city, hiding away from the rest of the world. Michael had been released from the hospital only one day prior and they were celebrating by going on that date Michael had promised Luke.

He complained, of course, when Michael had shown up after Luke's shift at Mo’s Diner in his brand new Lamborghini.

“I’m not getting in that thing,” Luke said defiantly, beginning to walk on the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment. Michael drove slowly beside him.

“Please, Luke. I want to take you out,” Michael had pleaded through the open window on the passenger side.

“No,” Luke replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked. He knew he would cave. And he knew that Michael knew he would cave. Luke could not deny Michael anything, but sometimes it was fun to pretend.

“It’s safe, I promise,” Michael replied, revving the engine teasingly and earning a glare from Luke.

“Are you even allowed to drive yet?” Luke questioned. He doubted the doctor gave Michael permission to operate a vehicle so soon after being released from the hospital.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Luke rolled his eyes. His boyfriend was an idiot.

“You’re an idiot,” Luke told him, but turned to get into the car.

They had wandered around the park for the better part of an hour before they had come across a secluded area on the top of a hill where they could lay hidden away from the rest of the world. It was quiet, peaceful, and they both marveled as the city lights paled in comparison to the stars that dotted the night sky.

At Michael’s confession, Luke tore his gaze away from the stars, shuffling closer to get a better view of Michael’s profile.

“Really?” he asked, reaching a hand out slowly to trace his fingers over Michael’s features.

Luke’s long fingers tapped lithely across Michael’s stubbled jawline and Michael’s lips lifted into a small smile under the soft pads of his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Michael breathed, his exhale visible in the cool night air. “That’s why I was forced to go to uni,” he laughed humorlessly, “because my parents didn’t want a deadbeat musician for a son.”

Luke propped himself up on one elbow so he could lean over Michael, staring down into the beautiful, enigmatic green of his eyes and admiring the way they seemed to shine just as brightly as the stars above them.

“What do you play?” Luke asked after a stretch of silence where they were just staring at each other, admiring each other.

“The guitar,” Michael replied and Luke couldn’t help but be distracted by the way his lips stretched to accommodate for an even wider smile, full and pink and ever so tempting. Luke wanted to lean down and suck Michael's bottom lip between his own.

“I used to play when I was younger,” Luke said instead. “Before I left home.”

Michael’s eyes met Luke’s and for a moment, Luke felt all the air leave his lungs. Michael was just so beautiful with his wide, green eyes and soft, pale skin and Luke never wanted to forget how he looked almost translucent in the moonlight.

Ethereal.

“Why’d you stop playing?” Michael asked.

“I forgot to take my guitar with me when I left,” Luke sighed sadly. “And I can’t afford a new one. Wasn’t very good anyway,” he said after a moment of silence, running one singular finger down the bridge of Michael’s nose.

“I’m sure you were wonderful,” Michael sighed as he closed his eyes and allowed Luke to thumb softly over the delicate skin of his eyelids.

Luke smiled at the beautiful boy underneath him and leaned down to drop a soft kiss to the tip of Michael’s nose.

Michael scrunched his nose up in response and brought one hand up to grasp lightly at the back of Luke’s neck. He pushed gently until Luke was leaning down, hovering directly over his face. Luke stopped when he was only an inch away from Michael’s lips.

“I’m so happy you’re better,” Luke admitted, nosing delicately along the scar on Michael’s neck.

They never talked about that night, about the car crash itself or the events leading up to it. They probably should discuss it at some point so it doesn't become a point of contention in their relationship. They don't, though, and they probably never will. Luke isn't willing to relive those memories, not yet, not ever, not when he has Michael laying safely beneath him.

“And I’m happy that we’re giving this another shot," Luke whispered to Michael. His words were stolen away by the cold night air and floated upwards towards the stars.

Michael paused, watching as the ghost of Luke’s confession evaporated between them. Then, he smiled genuinely, small, white teeth poking out behind cherry red lips.

“I’m happy that you’re happy,” was Michael’s reply, his words were honest and pure, unlike the rest of him. “Now come here and kiss me.”

Luke didn’t hesitate to comply.

-

The rest of their date was spent exchanging stories and lazy kisses until the earliest hours of the morning when the stars no longer stood prevalent in the sky. It was perfect, really, the way Michael’s hands had warmed Luke’s colder ones up so nicely that he paid no mind to the chill that hung heavy in the night.

The sounds of the city coming to life brought them out of their own little bubble. Luke admired Michael as the older boy stretched in the morning light. He couldn’t help but stare at the way Michael’s smooth skin was pulled taut over the slight muscles in his arms when he lifted them over his head and the way his shirt rose slightly, exposing a small stripe of his pale, fleshy belly that Luke had used as a pillow for a decent portion of their night.

“See something you like?” Michael teased, that infuriating smirk ever present on his lips.

Luke blushed and ducked his head, embarrassed that he was caught so openly ogling Michael’s body.

He heard Michael’s soft chuckled and the sound of him rising to his feet. A hand came into his view and he took it without question as Michael helped pull him off the ground.

“We have to get you to class,” Michael stated, watching as a steady stream of traffic poured out from Sydney below them.

“Too tired,” Luke mumbled, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Michael cooed at the sight.

“I’ll take you home then,” Michael replied, wrapping an arm around Luke’s waist to support him. “I’ll go to your class for you and tell you what you missed.”

“You’d do that for me?” Luke asked, the blue of his eyes intensified by the strong light of the morning sun. Michael had the overwhelming urge to drown in them.

“Yeah, of course,” was all Michael could say before a pair of soft, pink lips pressed against his own.

“Thank you,” Luke said, the shy smile on his face causing Michael’s stomach to flutter with something that felt suspiciously like butterflies.

-

They tried their best not to bring too much attention to themselves. They attempted to avoid each other on campus, but that only worked for so long. Paparazzi eventually found their way onto school grounds, but Michael made sure they never came close to Luke.

The library, which was once considered their only place of solace on campus, had been overrun by nosy students. It was ridiculous, really, how anything the Clifford family did garnered so much attention. Eventually, they had to avoid the library altogether.

However, they did find respite again in the unlikeliest of places.

Ashton had offered them the sanctuary of the art studio and he took it upon himself to harbor them as if they were fugitives. The other art students didn’t mind, they often looked at them with either pitying or sympathetic expressions, but no one dared to bother them. There was no judgement once they walked into the art building. It was just Michael and Luke and the smell of paint.

“I’ve never been in here before I met you,” Michael said, looking around the wide open studio they were taking refuge in.

There were paintings drying on canvases and artists drawing at large, wooden tables that were covered in years worth of splattered, dried paint. Ashton was positioned at an easel a few feet away from them, sketching and painting with such concentration. His tongue was sticking out, the tip trapped between his upper and lower lips and his brows were furrowed in a way that caused the skin on his forehead to crease. He seemed lost in his own little world, lost to the sensation of paint meeting canvas, and Luke and Michael felt content to watch the artist at work.

"He's really quite good," Michael said, voice a low murmur in the quiet of the studio.

"Hm?" Luke asked, too distracted by the way the sun brought out little flecks of gold from Michael's eyes to concentrate on anything else.

"Ashton," Michael whispered, tilting his chin in the older boy's direction. "He's a really good artist."

"He is," Luke agreed, stifling a giggle as Ashton wiped some sweat off his forehead and accidentally smeared lavender coloured paint across his brow.

"I bet you regret what you said to him that night at the gallery," Luke said after a moment, tone light and teasing.

Michael sighed and entwined his hand with Luke's larger one. "I regret a lot of things."

"Don't," Luke whispered, leaning into Michael's space so far that their lips brushed as Luke spoke. "Don't do this to yourself. There's no point in constantly beating yourself up for what happened in the past."

Michael let out a long breath, hot air expanding and settling on Luke's lips as he did so.

"I could say the same to you," he spoke, the hint of a smile evident in one corner of his mouth.

Luke's lips twitched upwards. "That's something we definitely have to work on."

Michael nodded in agreement. "Together," he whispered as he closed the small distance between his and Luke's lips.

The kiss was soft, just a gentle press of their lips that had Luke's eyes fluttering shut.

There was something about Michael that was utterly addicting, the way his lips were always soft and smooth and so inappropriately red, contributing to Luke's fantasies about how Michael's lips would look sucking and biting at different parts of his body.

When they broke apart a moment later, Michael pulled back just far enough to kiss the tip of Luke's nose, mimicking the other's move from the night at the park, causing Luke to laugh quietly into the space between them.

When they returned their attention to the studio once again, Ashton was watching them with the fondest of expressions on his face.

"What?" Luke asked, cheeks tinting a light shade of pink and ears heating up before he decided to hide his face in the safety of Michael's throat.

"You guys are gross," Ashton said, turning back to his canvas.

Luke felt Michael's chuckle from where he was pressed against him and snuggled closer against his boyfriend's chest.

"Says you," Luke mumbled, voice distorted from where his mouth was pressed against the collar of Michael's leather jacket. "You and Calum are the grossest couple ever."

"You're definitely grosser," Ashton responded, walking over to the sink to rinse off his brushes.

"We're not grosser than you and Cal," Luke replied, pouting childishly and lifting his head enough to glare at Ashton. "Or did you forget about that morning I watched him come down your throat?" Luke asked, shuddering in mock horror.

"You could've knocked," Ashton said at the same time Michael broke out into a loud fit of laughter, throwing his head back and exposing the pale expanse of his throat in the process. Luke had to fight the urge to suck marks into the column of his throat. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to where Michael's Adam's apple was bobbing as he laughed. Michael's laughter stopped immediately, only to be replaced by a breathy, barely audible moan.

"Definitely grosser than me and Cal," Ashton grumbled, flicking water at them as he walked by.

-

As far as Luke knew, Ashton had kept his promise and didn't tell Calum about his and Michael's relationship. They were extra cautious, Luke and Ashton, making sure Calum stayed away from any and all gossip magazines and newspaper articles and Calum, thankfully, remained in the dark.

It’s not that Luke didn’t want his best friend to know about his relationship with Michael, he just knew that the older lad wouldn’t react too well once he found out it was Michael Clifford who Luke was continuously pining over.

"But I'm your _best_ friend," Calum complained one night, settling onto the couch and pulling Ashton into his lap as he did so.

"And as my _best_ friend," Luke mocked, "you should respect my privacy."

"But that's not fair!" Calum whined. Ashton brought a hand up to play with Calum's curls, placating his boyfriend. Luke shot him a grateful glance.

"Can you at least tell me what he looks like?" Calum asked, wide, brown eyes shining at Luke in the dim lighting of their apartment.

And that wasn't really fair of Calum because he knew that Luke couldn't resist his puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Luke sighed and Calum wiggled further into the couch, clearly pleased with himself.

"Okay, um, he's really cute," Luke began lamely, cringing at the way he chose to begin this conversation. "He has green eyes and pale skin and he dyes his hair a lot, like way more than he probably should. And his lips," Luke sighed, infatuation written all over his face. "His lips are a dream." He zoned out for a moment then, daydreaming about kissing Michael.

Calum cleared his throat, watching him expectantly. "What colour is his hair now?" He asked, changing the subject.

"He just dyed it, actually. Now it's blue."

"Blue?" Calum asked and Luke ignored the way his eyebrows raised in surprise. "He doesn't sound like your type," Calum offered hesitantly.

Luke only shrugged. "I've only ever had one boyfriend before him. I don't think I really have a type."

Calum nodded his head solemnly, as if remembering back to a time when Luke was dating Jacob. Something hard crept into his eyes as he pulled at a lose thread on a couch pillow. "Just be careful, alright? I don't want you getting hurt this time."

"Jacob wasn't the one who hurt me," Luke reminded gently, aware of the way Ashton's brows scrunched together in confusion, but he was smart enough not to ask. Luke really liked Ashton.

"I know," Calum sighed. "I can't help it though. I just want you to be happy."

"I am," Luke answered immediately.

Calum looked unsure, but still nodded his head.

There was a heavy silence that followed, Calum and Luke no doubt remembering a darker time. Luke bit his lip as repressed memories resurfaced. He often wondered about his parents, where they were and what they were doing, if their opinions have changed over the years or if they were still the hard to please people he remembered them as. He wondered if they missed him, if they regretted what they did to him or if they bragged about it to their homophobic friends. He likes to think that they've changed, that they're sorry for what they've done. It's wishful thinking, though. He knew that if they were sorry in the slightest they would have made an attempt to reach out to him.

"Okay," Ashton said, clapping his hands together to break the tension that had settled in the room. "We should go out tonight."

Calum leaned forward to kiss his boyfriend's temple, momentarily distracted, and Luke smiled at the suggestion.

Luke _really_ liked Ashton.

-

They decided to go to a bar within walking distance of Calum's and Luke's apartment. It was a small, poorly lit pub with sticky, faux leather seats. It was a hole in the wall, covered in years worth of grime, but it was perfect to them.

Luke grabbed a table at the corner of the dance floor while Calum and Ashton ordered a round of drinks.

As he waited for his friends to return, his phone vibrated loudly from where it was laying on top of the table. When he flipped it open, he saw that Michael had sent him a picture. He opened it carefully, doing his best to shield the phone's screen from the people around him. The picture slowly loaded and. He choked. Although, if he's being honest, he didn't expect anything less from Michael.

There, on the small screen of Luke's ancient flip phone, was a picture of Michael's cock, hard and thick with the dark red tip contrasting against Michael's paler hand where he was holding it, the anchor tattoo on his thumb on display.

Barely a minute after Luke opened the picture, another text from Michael came through.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 8:33 pm**

_wish you were here_

Luke shifted in his seat and wiped his palms against his thighs. Biting his lip, he debated on how to reply, but before he got the chance to, his phone buzzed with a third text from Michael.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 8:34 pm**

_wanna fuck you_

And, okay. That's something they haven't done yet and the thought of it alone had Luke's cock swelling uncomfortably in his pants. He wondered how Michael would want it, if he'd go slow or make it rough, boss Luke around and pin him down and tease him until he couldn't take it anymore.

The sound of Calum and Ashton returning to the table and placing several pints of beer down between them brought him back to reality. He jumped in his chair at the sudden noise and almost dropped his phone when it vibrated again in his hand.

"You alright there, Lukey?" Calum asked, watching as Luke awkwardly fumbled with his phone.

"Uh-huh, yeah," Luke nodded, opening his latest message from Michael.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 8:36 pm**

_where are you?_

"Luke? You sure you're okay?" Calum asked, eyeing him nervously.

Luke had to remind himself to breathe evenly. It was amazing what Michael could do to him.

"Yeah, I promise I'm good," he replied, typing out a reply to Michael, telling him where he was and who he was with. He got a reply only a minute later.

**To: Luke**

**From: Michael at 8:40 pm**

_ill meet you there_

Luke panicked, worrying his lip ring between his teeth as he thought of all the ways this could go wrong. He imagined Calum and Michael meeting again, two stubborn, hard-headed men standing off against each other in the middle of a dingy pub. Calum would tell Michael to fuck off and Michael would undoubtedly retort with some smart ass reply about fucking Luke instead. He would never hear the end of it from Calum.

The minutes seemed to drag on and the anxiety crept further up his throat as Luke watched the door for a familiar head of blue hair. Eventually, Luke saw Michael walk in. He paused at the edge of the dance floor, looking around the small pub before his eyes met Luke's. Michael's mouth pulled up at the edges, signature smirk causing Luke's stomach to flutter. He started moving towards where Luke was sitting and Luke was momentarily distracted by the obvious bulge in his pants, but he quickly remembered himself and shook his head. Michael's steps faltered and his eyes took in the rest of the table, apparently just noticing the other two boys in Luke's company. He lingered on the dance floor for a moment, never breaking eye contact with Luke. It was only when Luke started to fidget under his unrelenting gaze did Michael start moving away, nodding towards bathroom. With one final smirk, he turned on his heel and disappeared. Luke grabbed his pint of beer and quickly chugged it before pushing himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily and almost knocking his chair over in the process. He ignored the way Calum and Ashton stared at him as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Gotta pee," was the only explanation he gave before he took off in the direction of the bathroom.

He made his way through the dance floor, shrugging off the overly intoxicated people dancing around him. He reached the bathroom, bypassing the line that had started to form outside the door. He wiped his clammy palms across his thighs before he reached for the door handle. After pushing the door open, Luke was met with the sight of Michael leaning against the wall across from the full length mirror, watching himself in the mirror and he palmed himself over his jeans. His head was thrown back against the wall, little puffs of air leaving his pink bitten lips. A light sheen of sweat was covering his forehead, giving his skin a type of iridescent glow in the bathroom's lighting. Luke slammed the door shut behind him, not wanting anyone else to see his boyfriend in such a vulnerable state.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

Michael groaned low in his throat. "Want you to suck me off," came his raspy reply.

Almost immediately, Luke crossed the room and sank to his knees in front of Michael.

"So eager," Michael breathed. "Such a good boy."

Luke didn't know if that was an actual thing he was into or if he just liked hearing Michael tell him how good he was being, but he whined at the praise, reaching forward to get his hands on Michael.

"No, baby," Michael said, grabbing Luke's hands before Luke could touch him. "No touching."

Luke bit his lip, watching impatiently as Michael undid the zipper of his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs. The outline of his cock was straining against his boxers and Luke had to resist the urge to trace it with his tongue.

Michael's boxers were then slowly pulled away, enough so that only the flushed pink head was on display, pre-come already leaking from the tip. Luke reached out, entranced, with the goal of gathering up all the pre-come from Michael's tip and sucking it off his fingers.

His hands was slapped away before he could do that, though.

"What did I just say?" Michael demanded, the green of his eyes now mostly overcome by black.

Luke wracked his brain. "No touching?" He eventually asked, voice sounding small to his own ears.

"No touching," Michael confirmed. "Hands behind your back."

Luke did as he was told, holding his hands tight behind his back and digging his nails into his palms to keep himself from doing something stupid like holding Michael's gorgeous, pale thighs apart as he took him all the way down.

"Be a good boy for me, Luke," Michael said, voice lower and raspier due to his arousal.

Michael pulled his boxers the rest of the way off and took hold of his cock in his hands. He slowly brought himself closer to Luke's lips. Luke remained on his knees with his hands behind his back and his mouth shut tight, refusing to part his lips before Michael told him to.

Michael dragged his cock across Luke's face, smearing pre-come on his cheek before tapping the head against his lips. Luke bit his tongue to refrain from the need to lick his lips and get a small taste of Michael.

"So good," Michael murmured, increasing the pressure of his cock against Luke's closed lips until Luke opened his mouth to take him in.

Just as the head of Michael's cock slide over his bottom lip, the handle on the bathroom door began to rattle. Luke pulled away, afraid of being caught on his knees on the dirty bathroom floor, but Michael laced his fingers through Luke's blond hair and pulled him back onto his cock, shoving himself inside so roughly Luke keened. He loved when Michael was rough with him, when he took control and used Luke like this. His cock was straining against the zipper of his jeans from the treatment.

"Don't pull away from me," Michael growled. "Especially when I know you love it. You do, don't you? Knowing anyone could walk in on us and see you on your knees for me."

Luke moaned, imagining someone walking in, innocently enough to just use the bathroom, only to find Luke down on his knees with Michael's cock splitting his lips open.

Michael started thrusting then. He started with slow, shallow thrusts, allowing Luke to adjust for a moment before his thrusts became harder, deeper, and Luke could feel him against the back of his throat.

Michael took complete control, setting the pace and overwhelming Luke's senses. Every time Michael pulled back, Luke massaged his tongue against the underside of his cock and tried his best to tongue at the slit that was now steadily leaking pre-come. And Luke loved this, loved the way Michael's cock sat hot and heavy on his tongue, the way his lips were stretching around his boyfriend's girth, and how the ache in his jaw would serve as a reminder of this blissfully sinful moment.

Michael pressed farther inside then, causing Luke to gag and his throat to constrict tightly around Michael. Luke's eyes were beginning to water, making the azure of his eyes even more deadly and intoxicating and Michael had to close his eyes before the wrecked look on Luke's face made him come prematurely.

He was so innocent was the thing. All long, bumbling limbs and awkward personality. But when he looked like this, with half lidded, watery eyes staring back at him and his lips wrapped around Michael's cock, Michael wanted to destroy him in the best way possible.

"Yeah," Michael murmured, tightening his hold on Luke's hair so Luke didn't have any leverage. "So good," he complimented as he started thrusting faster, losing his rhythm as he neared his release. "So good for me." Michael kept spitting out praises, hopeless words of encouragement that went straight to Luke's cock, causing him to rock his hips upwards to try to get friction from his own jeans. Luke whined high in the back of his throat before he swallowed around Michael, reaching up to fondle Michael's balls with both hands.

And Michael came, hard and fast down Luke's throat while the other boy whined and shuddered beneath him.

Michael pulled out just in time for several ribbons of white, hot come to paint Luke's face and Michael took a moment to enjoy the view.

Luke's eyes had slipped closed and his red, swollen lips that were just wrapped so prettily around Michael were now covered in come. The pre-come on his cheek had dried and Michael stroked his thumb over it, trying to decide if he really wanted to remove it or leave it as a reminder that Luke is his.

Luke was hunched over himself on the floor, still on his knees with his shoulders shuddering slightly and it took Michael a moment to figure out why.

"Did you - did you come?" Michael asked, voice laced with disbelief.

Luke let out a little pathetic whimper and lowered his head, eyes now clamped tight as he nodded his head.

"Holy fuck," Michael breathed, completely in awe of the boy on his knees in front of him. The hand he had in Luke's hair began to scratch at his scalp soothingly.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby," Michael cooed, twisting some blond hair around his pointer finger.

"You're not mad?" Luke asked, looking up at Michael from his spot on the floor, eyes still wet and lips still come-stained. Michael's cock gave an interested twitch.

"'Course not. That's really fucking hot."

"It is?" Luke asked, beginning to lift himself off the floor. Michael helped him up and wiped off his boyfriend's dirty knees.

"You came untouched just from giving me a blow job," Michael replied. "It doesn't get much hotter than that."

Luke smiled at that, genuinely smiled, before he realized that Michael's come was now drying on his lips. He swiped his thumb through the mess on his face and brought the finger into his mouth, eyes never leaving Michael's as he swallowed.

"Fuck," Michael whispered, stepping forward to crash his lips into Luke's.

They kissed for several minutes, hot and needy and Michael could taste himself in Luke's mouth. Luke groaned as Michael's tongue massaged his own. Luke's arms settled around Michael's shoulders while Michael grabbed a handful of Luke's ass through his jeans.

Michael pulled away after a moment to leave a trail of kisses up Luke's neck. He stopped to nip gently at his earlobe before speaking.

"Next time you touch me like that without my permission, I'm going to tie your hands behind your back."

Luke groaned, dropping his head onto Michael's shoulder as his boyfriend bit at the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Please," Luke whimpered, giving into fantasies of Michael tying him up and having his way with him.

Michael licked over the spot on Luke's neck he had just been sucking on. "Anything for you, baby," was the last thing he said before he pulled away, making Luke whine at the loss. "Wait a couple minutes before you leave the bathroom," Michael instructed, pulling Luke in for one last, soft kiss, much different from the one they were just sharing. "And text me whenever you get home, need to know you're okay," was mumbled into his mouth before Michael pulled away for the final time and exited the bathroom.

Luke leaned his head against the door once it closed behind Michael, listening to the complaints of the patrons who had been waiting on the other side of the door.

Luke sighed before walking over to the sink and splashing some water on his face. It didn't do anything to get rid of his flushed cheeks or glassy eyes, but at least he washed off the rest of Michael's come.

Luke bit back a smile as he exited the bathroom and pretended he didn't notice the scandalized look on Calum's and Ashton's faces when he returned to their table with swollen lips and love bites on his neck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you all be honest with me for a sec? Is anyone actually still interested in this story? I'm going to continue on with it regardless, but I'm just curious whether or not people still enjoy this.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [abofics](http://abofics.tumblr.com//)
> 
> [Check out some art!](https://society6.com/product/rough-boy_framed-print#s6-6087091p21a12v52a13v54)


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